The Rise of Cyrodiil
by DarthImperius
Summary: It is said that as long Alessia's heirs bear the Amulet of Kings, then Tamriel shall be protected from Oblivion and the Empire will be prosperous. But the Amulet has been shattered, and an eternal barrier has been placed between Mundus and Oblivion. But even as an Emperor sits on it, the Ruby Throne waits for its true heirs to return. (Skyrim timeline; pre-GoF; AU and Timeline)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belongs to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 1 – By Tamriel Grant the Noble King Passage**_

 **Cadfield House, Cadfield, Scotland (U.K.)**

Built on a rather isolated and secure location was the old prodigy house which served as the official residence of the Earls of Cadfield. Currently owned by His Lordship Fleamont Potter, the Earl of Cadfield, this rather extravagant building housed not only the Earl, but also one of his two grandsons, who was curiously his favourite one. Harry Potter, his legal name being Henry, after his great-grandfather, was a rather strange mixture of his paternal grandparents. He possessed the mental capacity, skills and some traits of his late grandmother Euphemia, but also the wish for battle that Fleamont once possessed during his youth. Fleamont thought it was a shame that Harry was not the older twin, as despite his older brother Michael having the same abilities as a normal wizard child, he still did not possess the strange personality of his younger twin. But it was not only that that disturbed Fleamont.

What disturbed him, was the strange calm personality that Harry usually possessed, which would shatter when the teen went into combat, turning him a bit too brutal at times, if not psychotic. But the fact that he sometimes had secretly caught him on hidden areas of the manor with either flames, electricity or ice appearing on his hands at will. And sometimes it was a purple, blue, golden or green light. Yet he had not yet spoken with Harry about that, instead preferring to observe him from a distance. He sometimes wondered if Harry had inherited some hidden ability from either the Potter line or a squib line on Lily's side. In any case, he had been the one to raise Harry from infanthood, having succeeded in convincing both James and Lily to give their youngest to him, pressing them with claims that it would not be good for Harry to constantly live under the shadow of his own brother, who would be idolized by the Wizarding World due to the defeat of Voldemort. His rhetoric had worked, and they reluctantly allowed him to raise the young Harry.

From the sides, he saw how James and Lily raised Michael, the arrogant personality of James's teenagerhood resurfacing in his eldest child, Lily having to be the one to undo most of the "damage". Being practically worshipped by many as their saviour did not help at all. But Harry did not care if Michael was the Boy-Who-Lived or not, as it was not something that was on his priorities. He knew of the little adventures that he and his two companions had during the last three years, especially the parts where they had somehow dragged him along, and now with the reappearance and escape of Pettigrew the whole of the Potter family was in alarm.

With Dumbledore's suggestion that the former marauder had gone to search for his current master, James had increased the training sessions with Michael, and Fleamont had done the same with Harry. But unlike with James, the Earl of Cadfield instructed Harry in sword fighting, both in the variants of duel and war. It was a habit that was becoming lost with the new generations, and since James had dismissed the sword training, Fleamont had dedicated himself to teach his youngest grandson. But there arose the other problem. While in public Harry was a quiet person, while fighting he became far too aggressive. Fleamont could not believe his eyes when his ward had completely trashed an enchanted armour and skeleton, both with the sword and his wand. It was then that he had finally decided to perform a blood test on his grandson.

And so here he was now, on the library with Harry, and a small dagger on top of a parchment on a table.

"So…what am I supposed to do?" asked Harry, his eyebrow raised, before motioning his head towards the dagger "Cut myself with that?"

"Indeed." was the reply Fleamont gave.

Harry sighed heavily, before turning to his grandfather.

"And then what?"

"Let your blood drop on top of the parchment." answered the older Potter "It is enchanted to reveal somehow certain details about the owner of the blood."

Harry nodded, and grabbed the dagger. He made a small cut on his hand, and when he saw blood, he placed the palm on the parchment for a few seconds, before removing his hand from the object. As Fleamont quickly healed the cut his grandson had made, Harry looked at the now disappearing blood on the parchment, and soon enough, crimson words began to appear, surprisingly written on his own letter. Harry grabbed the test, and looked at the results.

They were quite normal, stating his full name, that of his parents, his gender and species. Of course, since he was part of nobility, his test had additional information. Despite stating that he held no title and was heir to none, it styled him as a member of both the Potter and Nott families on his father's side, and as a member of some Reman dynasty on his mother side.

Harry glanced at the words, before turning to his grandfather in confusion.

"What exactly is this thing?"

"A lovely invention by the Confederation of Wizards and the Goblin Conglomeration." replied the man "It literally searches in your blood for your ancestors' history, but it also collects information that your respective country's ministry has about you."

Harry accepted the explanation, and the two looked at the results with curiosity and confusion. All was normal except for one thing, and it was the Reman Dynasty which was the surprise for the two. Yet there was something in that name which sounded familiar to Fleamont.

"I never heard of a Reman Dynasty," said Harry. "At least in the muggle world. Is there one in ours?"

"Not that I know of." answered the old man "The name is familiar though."

Fleamont went towards the bookshelves and began to research the books for any mention to the name "Reman". Harry soon did the same, and so grandfather and grandson spent the majority of the afternoon on the library, stopping only for the tea. It was only an hour before dinner, that Harry had finally found something. It was an old book on events that had been recorded by a wizard a few centuries ago, and the name of Reman had appeared a few times.

As he and Fleamont read it, the two came to learn of a location near the sea coast of Scotland which held a now abandoned construct known as Fort Reman, who had been built on the orders of a man known as Juilek Cyrodiil who claimed to be the son of a Reman Cyrodiil and a woman named Tavia. The man had children but he was eventually struck by a stray arrow which robbed him of his left eye and his life. According to the writer, Juilek was buried inside the fort, alongside some of his descendants. The book gave the possible location of the fort, somewhere near Milleur Point in the Rhinns of Galloway. However, the book also pointed out that most information regarding the Fort and its former inhabitants may not be entirely true. But it was still worth a try.

"Do you want to go there and see if we find something?" asked Fleamont to his grandson.

"Really?!" asked Harry excited "Sure!"

Fleamont smiled at the enthusiasm of the younger Potter, and the two began to prepare for their little expedition.

* * *

 **Fort Reman, Scotland (U.K.)**

There was indeed a fort on the coast, and it was most certainly in ruins. There were a few crumbled stones around and the only surviving structure was a tower which itself lacked a good chuck of its left side. There were a few skeletal remains on the ground alongside old and broken weapons, yet the gate to the interior of the fort was miraculously intact. Harry looked at his grandfather, who was examining the skeletons on the floor, and grabbing some of the weapons that were there.

"Strange…" mumbled the man.

"What?" asked Harry.

Fleamont showed Harry one of the most intact swords. Its blade was made of a green material with a pale emerald colour. The blade was cracked, and the hilt was seemingly made of gold.

"This sword is…unique compared to others I have seen." Said the old man "I can't even recognize the material, except for the hilt, which is likely male of gold. The very design is not native to any culture of Britain."

The two Potters had never seen a weapon such as this one, and the fact that it was in the middle of an ancient Fort which possibly pre-dated the events surrounding the Norman Invasion turned the whole investigation more interesting.

"There was clearly a battle here, with all the skeletons loitering the place." said Harry "Not to mention the arrows on the heads of some."

"Indeed." agreed Fleamont "The lack of burial must mean that this place was quickly abandoned shortly after the battle. But who were they fighting?"

"Some mercenaries, perhaps?" suggested Harry.

"If it was mercenaries, then its forces must have been wiped out in the battle, otherwise this place would have been cleaned up and occupied by the attackers," stated Fleamont "Which in turn suggests that the survivors, which include your Cyrodiil ancestors, may have left this fort, and became integrated into either England or Scotland."

Fleamont opened his bag, and placed inside the strange sword, alongside some of the arrows that were nearby. As the old Potter patriarch searched the area for more items, Harry began to explore the fort's tower, climbing the intact steps into the upper level. There was something stranger about this place, other than the skeletal remains below. But he could not understand what exactly was bothering him so much.

He looked around, being careful so that he wouldn't step into a potentially crumbling are of the floor, and went towards the large open area of the tower. As he looked downwards, he saw many stones, very likely from the missing part of the tower where he was now. He then looked upwards, towards the top of the towers, part of which was also missing. There were also skeletons near him, some with more recognizable steel weapons, but Harry left them be.

The upper area was much like the rest of the tower, broken and with its stones scattered. So where was the strange sensation coming from?

"Harry!"

The young wizard turned around, looking downward towards his grandfather.

"Shall we go inside?" asked Fleamont.

"Um…yes, sure." said the younger Potter.

Harry went back down, momentarily forgetting about his previous thoughts. He arrived at the ground floor in time to see his grandfather cast Alohomora at the closed gateway which led inside the Fort's interior structure. The two went inside, Fleamont casting the Wand-Lighting Charm while Harry walked slightly behind him, looking at the semi-empty corridors, which were not only filled with skeletal remains, but also with battles and broken chests. As the two progressed, Harry could not help but be slightly creeped out by the constant sighting of at least one or two skeletons on the floor of nearly every room.

"Whatever happened here also affected the interior of this place." stated Fleamont who had then noticed a piece of wood on the floor. He pointed his wand at the piece of wood, casting the Fire-Making spell at its tip. He then grabbed the other extremity of the piece of wood, and gave it to Harry.

The two continued, walking into some dead-ends, but eventually they reached a circular room with a seemingly bottomless pit in the middle. The two saw that there was a closed door on the other side, and so Harry and Fleamont walked towards it, the two glancing for a moment at the pit in the middle. Opening the door, they found themselves in another corridor, which was surprisingly more…clean than the others, considering that there were no skeletons on the floor, and there was no sign of any container. At the end of the corridor was a small archway, which led into a tight circular room with a circular staircase heading downwards. As always, Fleamont went first, his wand illuminating the small are, while Harry's torch gave a little warmth to the two. AS they reached the bottom of the stairs, the two Potters entered a narrow corridor, with a rather low ceiling.

"Interesting." said Fleamont, observing a small opening on the wall.

"What is?" asked Harry, not exactly seeing what was so interesting about a narrow corridor.

"See this opening on the wall?" he asked, at which he received a nod "There are bones inside. We seem to have entered the catacombs of Fort Reman."

The two continued to walk, moving across the underground tunnel, which was quickly turning into a labyrinth. But as they walked further into the catacombs, the two discovered a small and dusty door, poorly made with pieces of wood. As Fleamont went to open it, the wooden planks simply fell, granting passage to the two Potters. It led into a seemingly natural cave corridor, and as Harry and Fleamont went forward, they finally reached what the two supposed to be the final area of the catacombs.

It was a large cavern, with a small water stream passing through its middle. The water came from a passageway, large enough for an adult human to crawl through, but it was blocked by iron bars, much like the passage, where the water was heading to. But the main feature of the area was not the stream, but the tombs which were on stone platforms on the other side of the stream. In the middle, there was a higher platform with a single tomb, with a small staircase allowing one to go up there.

There were also strange pillars with green engravings, from which emanated light, alongside small pyres with purple flames. Harry approached one of the tombs, and examined it. It had a basic design, but there was a strange symbol on the upper part of the sarcophagus, resembling a dragon-like creature with its wings creating a diamond. On the right side, there was another engraving, and Harry knelt so that he could read it.

* * *

 _Kastav Cyrodiil_

 _1E 2927 – 1E 2995_

 _Son of Prince Juliek Cyrodiil_

* * *

Fleamont on the other hand went towards the tomb on the altar, and like the others, this one also had an engraving of its own. He cleaned the dust of the stone and read the old inscription.

* * *

 _Juilek Cyrodiil_

 _1E 2892 – 1E 2954_

 _Son of Emperor Reman Cyrodiil III_

* * *

Fleamont was not an expert in history, but he certainly knew that there was no emperor in both muggle and wizard history called Reman Cyrodiil. Still though, this at least confirmed his and Harry's suspicions, and the younger Potter and his older brother were most certainly descendants from this man. But to both Harry and Fleamont, the dates were somewhat confusing. Yet the two assumed that they used another type of calendar, instead of the common one used in Europe. Harry went towards his grandfather, and looked at the inscription as well. They stood there for a few moments, until Fleamont looked at harry, and told him to step away from the tomb.

Harry did so, and Fleamont cast the Levitation charm, lifting the upper part of the sarcophagus, and placing it on the ground. As expected, inside the tomb was a skeleton, dressed in a rather strange set of golden armour, while a shield and a sword were on top of it. The shield was rather well decorated, and the blade of the sword was rather thin, and the hilt had a strange diamond shaped image on it. However, around the place where was once the neck of Juilek, was a strange amulet. In the centre was a red gem, which was held in a golden clasp, with a small white gem on the upper and lower part of the amulet.

Harry didn't know why, but he felt compelled to grab it. It was almost as if his life depended on it. He reached out, and took the amulet from the skeleton of Juilek, being careful so that he would not cause any unwanted damage to his ancestor's bones. As the amulet got closer to him, he began to hear whispers, almost as if they were coming from the amulet itself. He began to place the amulet around his neck, the whispers growing even louder. But when he finally wore the amulet, the whispers suddenly stopped. Yet he could feel a strange presence around him, not malignant, but a powerful presence. He also took the sword, placing it inside his own "bottomless bag".

"It seems you have a new trinket." said Fleamont.

"It…feels right, somehow." admitted the young wizard, before turning his attention to the book in the hands of the skeleton.

Harry grabbed the book, being very careful with it, considering how old it could have been. Surprisingly, the book was very well preserved, almost as if it had not been entombed for hundreds of years, not to mention the rotting corpse.

"What does it say?" asked Fleamont.

Harry opened the book, and was surprised to find it written in a strange version of English. It was a mixture of modern and early modern English, which surprisingly fit rather well in the way it had been written. But what confused him was the fact that the English used by Juilek was somehow more similar to modern English than the actual English used during his day, whenever that may be. Still, he began to read some of the pages, mentally translating it fully into modern English. However, the more Harry read, the more shocked he became.

"Harry?" questioned his grandfather "What's wrong?"

Harry blinked twice, and cleared his throat before reading out loud one of the last entries.

* * *

 _Loredas, 22nd of Second Seed, 1E 2948_

 _There have been many years since I came to this world, and as the days pass, I can only curse the name of Versidue-Shaie and all of his brethren. May all those Akaviri bastards perish in the same way that my father did. In any case, I write this as an amalgamation of the events that have occurred since my arrival here, alongside my son, wife, and many of my followers. The Divines seem to have no presence in this world, and neither do the Daedra. The people here seem to worship a deity which they simply refer to as "god". At the surface, it is rather similar in doctrine to that heretical abomination created by that damned monkey. Poor Saint Al-Esh must have wept when her name was used in such a blasphemous cult._

 _I must thank the mages though, as it was thanks to them that the portal was a success. I admit that I am not exactly knowledgeable in the workings of the Aurbis, but the mages explained that the procedure involves jumping from one Godhead to another. I don't know what a Godhead is, but they said that their research had been based on the writings of Vivec, and the research made in the Arcane Univerity. But in all of this, the true key in this endeavour is the Amulet of Kings. When the Ayleids created two Chim-El Adabal from the red diamond, not even they knew that the two stones were connected in such a way, that even when separated, they were still one. When I asked my father to observe the Amulet of Kings, he reluctantly allowed me to do so, and I took the opportunity to create another Amulet of Kings, using the second Chim-El Adabal. I had intended for the new Amulet of Kings to be used by the heir apparent of the Empire, but fate was against me._

 _I wanted to test how perfect the amulet was, so I gave to my father the new amulet, keeping the old one to myself. He didn't even notice the difference. But unfortunately, I would be unable to switch back the amulets, as I came to learn of a plot against me. It was from there that I gathered my wife, my trusted soldiers and mages, and went to plan a way to hide away from those who wished me harm. We created a portal in a hidden chamber inside Sancre Tor, and when the time came, it was a decoy who was sent in my place to Black Marsh, as I travelled to this world knowing that my father had been killed on the orders of the Akaviri._

 _The activation of the portal required the usage of the Amulet of Kings, which in turn requires either a Dragonborn or a descendant of one. Upon our arrival in this world, we found ourselves in a cavern, with a small passageway into the exterior. To our great luck, there were a few ruins above the cavern, no doubt constructed by the locals. The fort where I stand as I write this was built on those very ruins, constructed on the image of the White-Gold Tower, or at least we tried to do so. But in the eventual years, my son Kastav was born. The first of the Remans to be born in a different world, and yet I know that I shall likely be the first of the Cyrodiils to die in a different world._

 _But even the Eight must be laughing at Versidue-Shaie, for he has failed in his quest and the Reman bloodline survives, and with us the first Amulet of Kings._

* * *

This was a rather surreal turn of events.

To learn that one of your ancestors came from another universe was not something very…common. Fleamont was also stunned for a few moments, until he came out of his stupor, and asked Harry for the book, wanting to read it himself. When Harry gave it to him, Fleamont took a look at some of the pages, many of them with strange symbols and others with equally strange drawings. There were some other pages with normal writing, but the majority of the book seemed to be a compilation of alien schematics. One of said pages, had a drawing of a strange construct, alongside a rather peculiar set of runes carved on the floor. At the centre of the image was a representation of a glowing sphere, while inside it was a rhombus, apparently representing the Amulet of Kings. Next to the drawing, was a small text, which Fleamont read with curiosity.

* * *

 _The procedure which we used to construct the portal is heavily based on Aldmeri magic, more specifically, Ayleid magic. Hermaeus Mora's Oghma Infinium was most useful in this endeavour, for it gave us the knowledge required for the completion of the ritual. In essence, the portal is of Ayleid origin. The section where my resting place shall be, was also made with the Ayleids in mind, for entrance to the cave where we arrived now requires the usage of the Amulet as well, alongside Ayleidoon._

 _In a fit of inspiration, the words required to reveal the passageway into the portal chamber is "Av Sunna Tam Riel arctavoy an Arpen Aran". It is part of the incantation that some Ayleid kings would have to say before they were acknowledged as the true ruler of their city. The incantation translates as "By blessed Tamriel acknowledge the Noble King". However, to activate the portal, one is required to say "Av Tamri-El dellevoy an Arpen Aran tarnabye", which roughly translates as "By Tamriel grant the noble King passage", and was originally part of the Ayleid coronation ritual as well._

* * *

As soon as Fleamont read it, Harry asked his grandfather for the book. The old man gave it to Harry, and watched as the younger Potter jumped down from the platform, and faced its front side. Harry looked at the text which his grandfather had read, and after glancing slightly at the Amulet of Kings, he said the first incantation.

"Av Sunna Tam Riel arctavoy an Arpen Aran!"

The front of the high platform glowed with a bluish colour, until it began to be lowered into the ground, revealing a hidden passageway, alongside a rather neglected set of stairs. Fleamont went down from the platform, and joined Harry in his observance of the area that his grandson had unlocked. Harry had begun to feel the same sensation as he had before the two had entered the fort, and it was stronger now, almost as if there was something pulling him towards the interior of the dark passage. But it was an ominous feeling, for he now felt a strange weakness in the cave, and he was very sure that it was not possible to feel weakness.

Casting the Wand-Lighting Charm, Fleamont was the first to enter the dark passage, Harry following him closely, observing the corridor with both curiosity and wariness. The two walked, not speaking a word, until they reach a wider cavern, with the same construct that Fleamont had seen in the book. There were three white pillars, while in the middle was a circular platform with the same set of runes that was present in the book. Harry approached the circular platform, and knelt near it, observing the runes more closely. They were not similar to any of those he had studied in Ancient Runes, but it seemed they were more of a "ritualistic text" than the runes he had studied.

Stepping back a little, Harry looked at the book, and said the second incantation.

"Av Tamri-El dellevoy an Arpen Aran tarnabye!"

Whatever Harry and Fleamont were expecting to happen, it was most certainly not the appearance of a floating purple orb, in the middle of the platform. And it was at this moment that Harry began to hear once more the whispers, and this time they were even stronger. However, they did not came from the purple orb, but from the amulet around his neck. Harry unconsciously reached out towards the Amulet of Kings, touching the red diamond in the centre, yet it was little before realizing what he had done, that both Harry and Fleamont realized that something was not right. The purple orb shattered, causing a strange wave of purple energy to emanate from it. Harry did not have time to react, as he was caught in the wave of energy.

"Harry!" shouted his grandfather.

The energy began to consolidate itself, until Fleamont could only see a swirling globe of dark energy, which after a few seconds diminished. But before doing so, there was a small blast of an invisible force, which threw Fleamont back a few meters. The old man collapsed on the ground, but quickly got up to see the purple wave disappear completely.

But what caused him panic, was the fact that Harry was no longer there.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

The Amulet of Kings design is based on how it appears in _The Elder Scrolls Online_.

* * *

 _ **Pocket Guide to the Story, 2nd Edition:**_

 **Henry James Potter** – The son of Lily and James Potter, and younger twin of Michael Potter. Better known as Harry Potter, he lived with his grandfather since Voldemort's attack, but has kept a cordial relationship with the rest of his family. Much like his mother and brother, Harry is a direct descendant of Reman Cyrodiil I, the founder of the Second Empire.

 **Fleamont Potter** – The Earl of Cadfield and Harry's grandfather. He has raised Harry for many years, and has been a major role model for his grandson, for the better and worse. His late wife was Euphemia Nott, daughter of Samuel Nott and Elladora Black.

 **Amulet of the Kings of Glory** – An ancient artefact created from an Ayleid soul gem, which was in turn created from a drop of Lorkhan's blood, although it is commonly believed to have been created by Akatosh. It houses the souls of all the Emperors of Cyrodiil and Tamriel which were crowned with the Amulet of Kings.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

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"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2 – Cyrodiil**_

Harry watched as the orb shattered, purple energy immediately expanding to consume him. He was paralysed in shock, his mind not fully understanding what was happening. Harry could only hear the sound produced by the swirling magic, and at the same time, he heard his grandfather shouting his name. For him it was as if the swirling energy had stopped for an instant, before the room around him dissolved into many colours.

Harry began to feel sick, and before he could finally make sense of what was happening, a bright flash blinded him for a moment. He watched as the colours settled, forming what seemed to be a new room. The swirling energy was gone, and Harry only took a step before falling into his knees, and soon enough he was fallen on the floor, his vision turning dark, while he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

There was absolute silence around him, and Harry felt himself awakening, his head slightly hurt. He felt dizzy, but managed to get up, only then understanding the predicament he was currently in.

" _Where… what?"_ he mumbled, looking at his surroundings, a chamber with no apparent exit.

Had he been transported into the world mentioned in that journal? If so, then where was his grandfather? Did he remain behind?

Harry moved away from the altar, and attempted to open the portal once again.

"Av Tamri-El dellevoy an Arpen Aran tarnabye!"

There was a flicker of purple energy in the centre of the altar, but nothing happened beyond that. Harry tried once more, but the result was the same. It seemed he was truly trapped in this place.

"Bugger…" he whispered.

Having no choice and not wanting to remain trapped inside the chamber, Harry examined the room where he was. He looked around, realizing that it was illuminated by torches with purple fire. The young wizard noticed that he was still holding the book that belonged to Juilek, and he still had the Amulet of Kings around his neck.

 _"How am I supposed to leave this place?"_ he wondered.

To his surprise, a strange voice, apparently male and ethereal in sound, which seemed to originate on the back of his mind, answered him.

" _There is a trigger on the wall, east from you."_

Harry was stunned for a few moments, trying to find the source of the voice. Not managing to do so, he looked at the wall. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary with it, but as he looked closely, he realized that there was a stone slightly out of place. He pushed the stone, and stepped back in reflex as the wall next to him began to descend quickly, revealing a closed cell with a skeleton inside. Harry placed the book on his bag, and left the portal room. But as he entered the cell, the passageway behind him closed, but he looked in time to see another stone being put back in place, meaning that that was the trigger.

Harry took out his wand, pointing it at the locked cell door.

"Alohomora."

He heard the door unlocking, and with a simple push, it opened. Harry moved forward, entering a large room with another skeleton on the floor. The skeleton seemed to have a helmet on it, so he grabbed the loose skull, and removed the helmet from it, before placing it on his bag. He placed the skull back on the floor, next to the rest of its bones, and so he continued to move forward.

"This must be Sancre Tor," he mused. "Now, how do I get out of this place?"

In the same manner that a voice had spoken to him before, it was now as if someone had mentally given him a map of the interior of the ruins of Sancre Tor. Harry didn't know what exactly was happening, but he was sure that it had something to do with the Amulet of Kings.

"What the hell is happening?" he mumbled.

Shaking his head, Harry made way through the corridors of Sancre Tor, noticing how some of the rooms were filled with a blue mist, while some also had tattered robes on the floor, which Harry thought to be similar to those which the Dementors "wore". His wand drawn, Harry continued to traverse the empty hallways, eventually reaching a circular room, with a platform in the middle of a pit. From there, Harry entered another section of the ruins, and this time the corridors seemed to be ascending.

Sancre Tor had an eerie and morbid atmosphere that Harry did not enjoy, almost as if there had been something here once, that had departed a long time ago. He eventually reached the exit of the corridor entering a small hall with a large wooden door at the end. As he reached the door, Harry attempted to open it, but it was either damaged to the point where he could not move it, or he had not enough strength to do so. He moved backwards, keeping himself at a safe distance, and pointed his wand at the door, waving it as if it was a whip.

"Carpe Retractum."

From the wand came an orange rope-like substance that shot out towards the door at an incredible speed. It connected with the door, the substance turning into several strings upon contact. Harry moved to the side, pulling his wand with all the strength he could summon. He began to lean backwards, while walking towards the left side of the room, succeeding in moving the stuck door a bit. He stopped the spell, and ran towards the semi-open door.

There was enough space for him to exit, and with little effort, Harry succeeded in leaving the ruins of Sancre Tor, right into the wilderness of the Colovian Highlands. He realized that it was almost dark, as the sky was with an orange tint, so deciding that he would only move during the day, Harry entered Sancre Tor once again, and went towards the corner of the hall. Opening his bag to its maximum extent, Harry summoned his charmed tent, grabbing it as it "jumped out" of the opened bag. Placing it on the ground, Harry cast a spell at the tent, the magic setting up the tent. When it was done, Harry entered it, breathing in relief for finally entering familiar territory.

The interior of the tent basically reflected his grandfather's wealth, and although Harry did not even need most of the things that were inside of the tent, it was still nice to have them. It made the place feel more complete. One of the lessons that he had learned from his grandfather, was not to rely on house-elves, as even they sometimes messed up, and despite their small size, the mess they caused was sometimes enormous. So, he had been taught how to cook his own meals, and how to tidy up his own things, much like his great-grandfather had done to his grandfather, how had in turn taught him.

Luckily, the tent had been stocked recently, so Harry had not much trouble in creating an edible meal that satisfied him. After eating, there was not much to do, so the young wizard decided to delve into the book of Juilek, wanting to read it in detail. He spent the rest of the evening reading it with great interest, becoming fascinated with the various applications of magic that existed in Tamriel and how they were described. But it was not just the magic part which interested him, for Juilek had also written about some of the events that had happened during his life on Cyrodiil.

Eventually, Harry became tired, and after changing into a set of pyjamas, he entered his bed, and in minutes he fell asleep.

* * *

When morning had arrived, and Harry was fully awoken, he changed into a set of simple clothes, which would most likely not bring any attention towards him. He didn't know how exactly civilization was in Tamriel, so he intended to remain hidden for now. Well, mostly hidden at least.

When he had packed things up and was ready to travel, Harry left the ruins into the open clearing, which was surrounded by an immense forest, with mountains nearby. Not exactly wanting to walk, Harry took out his broom from the bag, and headed upwards, so that he could better see his surroundings. He could see that to the south, in the distance, was what seemed to be a city, but he could not be certain about it, since from his perspective, it was truly small. Thanks to his broom, Harry's travel time towards the city was not very long, but in a few minutes, he had arrived.

* * *

 **Chorrol, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

He landed in the forest near the walls, not wanting to be seen. He walked for a while, going towards the place where the gates into the city would be. But as he approached the city's gates, he noticed that there were some people nearby. Harry could see that they were dressed in a strange way, somewhat simplistic and with little pomp, even those who appeared to be rather wealthy. Of course, the most important aspect of this, was that this world appeared to be in an equivalent of a medieval or renaissance period.

Harry looked at his own clothes, and from what he was observing, he could easily pass as a burgher of sorts. Well…a young burgher, that is. Harry walked calmly, although in a faster pace towards the open gates of the city, observing the shields that the guards had. Apparently, the symbol of the city was a large tree. As he entered the city, Harry found himself in a large plaza, with many people walking by, others simply engaged in conversation.

While he had read about the Mer and the Beastfolk in Juilek's book, it was rather different to see them first-hand. It took much of his willpower to keep a normal expression and posture. But after calming his mind, he could not help but chuckle internally, as Tamriel would have probably be the nightmare of any blood-purist.

Towering above all buildings was an enormous cathedral-like building, which Harry was sure to serve as an actual church. He walked around the outer section of the city, which was basically where the commerce was made. He quietly observed the trades, watching how things worked on the city, which would basically be the same in the rest of Cyrodiil and possibly Tamriel. When he decided that he had seen enough, Harry went into an alley, and taking refuge in the shadows, he opened his bag, summoning another bag similar to the one he used.

Opening it, Harry saw the many galleons he had there, all golden and shiny, just as any wizard liked. This whole idea had come from his grandfather, who did not trust the goblins and their monopoly over the banking system of the British Wizarding World. And these bags were rather useful, as the enchantments which protected them made sure only someone of the Potter blood could truly access what was inside. Any other person would just see an empty bag. He still had a grand quantity of money on his vault, but Fleamont had removed a large amount to carry with him all the time.

But what Harry wanted to know, was if these coins were usable in Cyrodiil. Placing the coin purse inside the bag, Harry left the narrow alley, heading towards the cathedral. On his way there, he noticed a beggar woman, warming herself on the fireplace in front of the church.

On his mind, Harry had planned to ask the woman if the coins he had could be used for trading, with the intention of giving a few coins to the woman. And when he did so, the answer he got was rather… excellent. The beggar had confirmed that any gold coin would be usable, and she became very happy when Harry had presented her with a handful of gold coins. Upon doing so, Harry felt a rather pleasant sensation washing over him, almost as if he had been blessed by something.

Shrugging, the young wizard continued his exploration of Chorrol, intending on adapting himself to the lifestyle of the people around him. At least to a possible extent.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

I have decided that it will be a few years until the events of Skyrim. The civil war will only happen when Harry is at least 17 years old. In the meantime, don't concern yourselves with Harry's universe for now.

The obvious effects of the passage of time will be solved eventually, and when the time comes you will see why and how. On another note, with the new plot I am unsure of how Fleamont will fit in, although I want to include him in the story as I did in the original. I can only confirm that there won't be any Dark Brotherhood questline, as things will be different this time, and not just regarding the Brotherhood. Other questlines Harry will not participate in are the Companions, the Thieves Guild, and the College of Winterhold (likely).


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 3 – Stendarr, God of Mercy and Charity**_

 **Chorrol, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

From Harry's perspective, Chorrol was a rather elegant city. Despite the still existent damage on some buildings, especially on the church, Harry still thought that Chorrol was a rather pleasant location, at least on the eye. But it was the damage that attracted Harry's curiosity, making the young wizard look for a nearby bookshop. Upon finding one, Harry searched for a few books regarding Tamriel's history and some of its most famous individuals, some regarding magic, the deities, and a few other random books. Amongst the books he had bought, were all the volumes of the "Biography of Queen Barenziah", the "Brief History of the Empire", the "Pocket Guide to the Empire, 3rd Edition", the "36 Lessons of Vivec", the "Nine Commands of the Eight Divines", the "Monomyth", and the "Guide to Chorrol".

The owner of the bookshop was very pleased with the amount of gold that he had received, and Harry soon left the shop, the books safe inside his bag. At the moment, he had no idea of what to do, but he settled for sitting in a bench, deciding to read the "Guide to Chorrol". It was apparent that the book had several editions, and in minutes, Harry came to learn much about the city and its main points of interest. The cathedral on Chorrol, was in fact called the Great Chapel of Stendarr, and it had been damaged during a conflict called the Great War, which had happened a few years ago between the Empire of Tamriel and another faction called the Aldmeri Dominion.

The young wizard had also come to learn that in Chorrol was an established a guild which served as a revival of another in Tamriel which had been known as the Mages Guild. It had been founded by dissident members of the other two organizations which stood in opposition to it – the Synod and the College of Whispers. The new Mages Guild had been originally established in Skingrad, intended on resuming the old practices of the first Guild of Mages, but after the Great War the whole organization had been thrown into disarray, and had spent the last years attempting to reorganize itself, with mild success. But at the moment, he had no interest on the guild, for Harry needed to establish himself in Cyrodiil.

In this world, he needed to gather fame and wealth, and from what he had learned from his grandfather, the best way to do so was to be a patron, and to invest in the "greater commerce". The Potter family was rich, but absurdly rich, having gathered much of its wealth in the exploits of the British Empire over the centuries. For the old Potters, the Wizarding World was not a proper place to gather an actual fortune, so they had decided to expand into the muggle world. Charlus was a man of business and politics, and when he was young, Harry had always wanted to emulate the man. That itself stood in contrast with his brother and father, who were more of brute force than mental force. Not that Harry was against the usage of physical force when necessary, though. But the amount of money he alone had was incredible, and he had every intent of putting what he had brought with him to good use.

In a strange surge of curiosity, Harry got up, and went towards the church, wanting to see it closely. He approached the church, and after a few moments observing it, Harry entered the building. Inside, it was somewhat large, although it seemed to be smaller than the exterior. The church was virtually empty, except for someone near the altar. As Harry approached it, he realized that the altar was circular, and that the person near it was not a human, but what he identified as an elderly Altmer. By the way he was dressed, Harry could tell that he was a priest.

"Excuse me, sir?" said Harry "This is the Chapel of Stendarr, am I correct?"

The man's attention was drawn to him.

"This is indeed the chapel of Stendarr." said the Altmer "I am Primate Vindur, Archbishop of Chorrol. What brings to this church, young one?"

"I wish to learn about Stendarr, and what he stands for." said Harry "I'm not from this region, and my family are not followers of the Eight Divines, so I am rather ignorant regarding the deities worshipped in the Empire."

The old Altmer seemed to perk up at the prospect of indulging a non-follower into the Imperial Cult, especially into the patron deity of Chorrol. And this was not an opportunity that he would waste.

"It is always good to see a young soul willing to learn about the Eight." said Primate Vindur "Stendarr is the god of Mercy, Charity and Justice. Many rulers and officials have him as their inspiration, and both Chorrol and the Imperial Legion share him as their patron."

"So he is an important god."

"All the gods are important young one." stated Vindur "Some might be worshipped more than others, but their importance is equal. Lorkhan for instance, nowadays has a much diminished worship, but he was the one who brought the creation of Mundus."

To Harry that was a rather strange concept. For a creator deity to wave little worship was…unusual. At least on the Earth religions that he was aware of.

"In any event, Stendarr's command is very simple." said the Primate "Be kind and generous to the people of Tamriel. Protect the weak, heal the sick, and give to the needy."

Harry began to think about the words of the man. As much as he did not care about any Earth religion, he felt as if the Imperial Cult was…legitimate.

"Primate Vindur, why exactly is the church still damaged?" asked Harry "Doesn't Chorrol have the funds required to restore it?"

The old man sighed.

"Unfortunately, that is the case. After the signing of the Concordat, the cities which were affected by the battles invested much of their money in the reparations of the walls, and in other fortifications," he explained. "The people are still faithful, but the Empire in general is more focused on the war than in the Church. That is, if you forget about the whole issue with Talos."

"What issue with Talos?"

The man eyes widened in surprise.

"You don't know?" he questioned "One of the terms of the peace treaty between the Empire and the Aldmeri Dominion was to outlaw the worship of Talos, the former ninth Divine. It is no secret that there are many who worship him in secret, but to do so in public is suicide."

"Suicide?" asked Harry. "The Empire executes people for worshipping this Talos?"

"No, not the Empire," answered the Altmer. "The Dominion has the authority of seeking out worshippers of Talos, and to apprehend them. Those that are captured are never seen again."

 _"Oh, great."_ thought Harry. _"It's basically an inquisition."_

It was unexpected, but not something that concerned him. At least at the moment. For now, his only concern was the church. He looked around, and saw that the interior also needed a few reparations, but not as much as the outside.

"Does the church accept donations?" he asked.

"Of course." confirmed the man "Although it is somewhat rare for people to donate."

Harry moved towards one of the benches, near the entrance of the church, and placed his bag on it, and upon expanding it, he summoned the money bag. Opening it, he observed the visible galleons, wondering how much he would give to the chapel. After thinking for a while, and deciding on an amount, Harry summoned a large bag, this time one which was normal, possessing only a weightless charm. He grabbed many coins from one bag into the other, filling it with gold. In the end, it had not even caused a dent in the total amount he had with him.

He returned towards Primate Vindur, and presented him the bag, opening it to show him what was inside.

"As a token of good will and generosity, I want to make a donation to this chapel." said Harry, causing the man to splutter.

"B-But this… this amount of gold…"

"Oh, don't worry," said Harry. "This is just a small part of what I have."

His hands shaking, the old Primate took the bag from Harry, and was further surprised when he grabbed a seemingly weightless bag.

"It is enchanted so you don't feel its weight." explained the young wizard.

And despite his shock, which was still present, the man's joy was obvious.

"I…I can only thank you, in the name of all the people of Chorrol and of the Imperial Cult." said the man "May the blessings of Stendarr be with you forever."

"It was nothing," said Harry, smiling a little when he felt the same pleasant wave from before washing over him, but this time, it felt more…powerful than before.

But as he left the church, Harry was called by the old Altmer.

"Excuse me, but you haven't said your name," said the man. "I believe that the people of Chorrol would like to know who funded the restoration of the city's church."

It was thanks to the man that Harry realized that he had indeed, not introduced himself. It was time to start his rise to fame.

"Henry Cyrodiil."

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

These chapters are intentionally short, as they are my attempt at showing Harry's integration in Cyrodilic society. Harry's initial roles will be that of a patron, using his money to fund the restoration of landmarks which interest him. I intend to make this Harry pro-Cyrodiil, due to the years that he will spend there before the whole issue with Skyrim happens.

For those that don't know, Ulfric's rebellion has not happened yet, and the story is currently set in 4E 197.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

-line brealer-

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language"**

-line brealer-

 _ **Chapter 4 – The Guild of Mages**_

 **Chorrol, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

After leaving the Chapel of Stendarr, Harry wandered around without any set destination, returning to his previous routine of observance. At the moment he needed to create some sort of "to do list", as he could not keep doing things randomly. Well…technically he could, but it was not very practical. Perhaps he should now focus on the Guild of Mages, and then he should focus on acquiring the terrain where Sancre Tor was, alongside currency. Although that last part would be more bothersome than the others.

Harry opened his Guide to Chorrol, searching for the location of Chorrol's Mages Guild. The book mentioned that the Guild Hall was in the same building as the former Guild had been, which was near the Great Oak. The map inside the book indicated that the Great Oak was northeast to where he was, and that Chorrol's main street headed straight into the Oak. However, that meant that he had to return to the city's entrance. Placing the book in the bag, Harry began to head towards the supposed location of the Guild Hall, reaching it after ten minutes.

As he entered, Harry was met with a wide room, with a circular emblem on the floor, representing an eye. There were a few old tapestries on the walls, and some half-empty bookshelves as well. He noticed that near the entrance, behind what was apparently the reception desk, was a dark-skinned woman with red eyes, identifying her as one of the Dunmer. While she had been writing on a book, the Dunmer woman had also noticed him enter, and was the first to speak.

"Hello, welcome to the Mages Guild," she said. "I am Eldrilu Lloran, Master-Wizard and Head of the Guild Hall here in Chorrol."

"Greetings." said Harry "What can you tell me about the Guild?"

"We in the Guild are dedicated to the study and practice of the various schools and applications of magicka and alchemy." she answered "We are a revival of the old Guild, founded by the legendary Vanus Galerion, who died in battle against the Mannimarco, the King of Worms."

"What exactly happened for the Guild to be disbanded?" asked Harry, rather curious.

"Official reports from the first years of the Fourth Era suggest that after the final defeat of the King of Worms at the hands of the original guild's last Arch-Mage, and his subsequent disappearance, what remained of the guild dissolved into power struggles, which then led into a schism and the creation of the Synod and the College of Whispers." explained Eldrilu "But some members from both the Synod and the College were unsatisfied with the current state of affairs, me included. So several decades ago, we joined together and recreated the new Guild of Mages, in the image of the old one."

"That was a…rather idealistic goal." affirmed Harry.

"We have also tried to restore the Order of the Lamp, but our current state doesn't allow us to do so." admitted the dark elf "But still, money flows, and we have had an increased number of orders in the last months, enough for the guild to survive."

"And how does one join the guild?" asked Harry.

She looked at him inquisitively for a few seconds, but she then answered.

"We first test the candidate for magical proficiency, seeing how easily they are able to cast certain spells in the seven schools of magic." she answered "The test is mostly to see if the candidate has the magical potency required for guild membership. Other than that, the individual must have a good intelligence and willpower, as without those, even the most basic of spells will be useless."

"Where would said candidate learn those spells?"

"We have spell tomes prepared for that very purpose." she revealed "And why are you asking? Do you wish to join the guild?"

"I suppose." he said "What exactly are the guild's policies?"

"The guild follows most of the rules in the old Imperial Charter." said the Dunmer "We don't have a ban on Necromancy, as the old guild had, but we only practice it under the limits of Imperial Law. Merely for study. We have also different types of membership."

"Types of membership?"

"While the members of the guild have 'full membership', we like to differentiate between those who are fixed in their respective guild hall, and those who have a more…adventurous lifestyle." explained the Master-Wizard "It is also is the type of membership that some who have a more 'Telvanni' approach to things decide to pursue, or in other words, mages who prefer isolation, while still being in communion with the guild. So, it is not just restricted to 'adventurers'."

Harry would have to research what exactly was a Telvanni, when he had the time.

"So, do you wish to perform the test?" she asked.

Harry supposed that this would be an opportunity of expanding his own power, and to learn more about the magic of Tamriel. And if he was correct, and those thing he did in secret inside his grandfather's house were actually non-focused Tamriel magic, then he this would possibly be easy.

"Yes." answered Harry "I do."

"Good. Let us see if you have the skill and will necessary for the Guild."

-line breaker.-

Eldrilu took Harry to the basement, which had a few cabinets with books and also some chests and barrels. There was also a device which served as some sort of target practice, and the material it was made of was clearly distorted, much likely due to the spells used on it.

"Tell me, what spells do you already know?"

"Well…I can do this." He Harry before conjuring a fireball on his hand and keeping it there before dispelling it.

"Try to cast it at the target over there." commanded the Master-Wizard.

Harry did so, casting a fireball at the metal target, causing a small explosion which had done no visible damage to the area. Harry supposed that the walls and the target were enchanted to be magic resistant.

"Very good." she said "Now, what other spells do you know?"

"I think this is the only one." he admitted.

She nodded, and went towards one of the cupboards, removing at least six small books and placing them on a table. Harry moved towards her, and she handed one of the books to him.

"This is a tome of Open, a spell of the school of Alteration," she said "Go ahead and read them."

Harry opened the first book, about a spell which could open locks. It presented in great detail the process which a mage would have to follow in order to cast said spell, but it was basic enough that Harry could understand it.

"Depending on how much power you put into it, Open can be used to unlock even the most complex of locks, and it has served many adventurers well." said the Dunmer. "However, it is also a favourite of thieves, so if you want to prevent any king of thievery on your property, you should curse doors and objects so that whoever tries to forcefully break in has an unfortunate surprise."

" _So it's basically Alohomora."_ he thought.

Harry watched as the Dunmer extended her arm forward, her hand glowing in a yellow tone. He watched as she effortlessly levitated a chest to an empty space on the table, leaving it there. She then cast another spell at the chest, and Harry heard a small noise coming from it.

"Let us see how much power you can currently harness." she said "Use Open on this chest."

Harry extended his arm forward, casting said spell at the locked chest, and he watched as it glowed for a second, before returning to normal. He then reached out, and opened the chest lid.

"Good. Now, let us increase the difficulty in the lock." said Eldrilu, before casting the same spell as before "Try to unlock it now."

Harry did so again, using the same spell but investing a little more magicka into it. The chest glowed again, and Harry once more reached out to open the chest lid, doing so successfully.

"Again, I shall test your power over Open." said the Master-Wizard, casting the Lock spell once more, its potency increased.

However, as Harry used once again Open, the spell simply vanished upon contact with the chest, seemingly suggesting that he had not been successful.

"The chest is locked under a powerful lock spell." she said "But for someone initiated in magic, you have done surprisingly well. Now, let us move into the School of Thaumaturgy with the Spell Reflection spell…"

-line breaker-

At the end of the tests, Harry had been deemed worthy of joining the Mages Guild, and Eldrilu Lloran had officially welcomed him into the Guild, granting him the rank of Apprentice. As the days passed and he became integrated into the daily life of the Mages Guild, Harry had also decided to fund the guild as well, which had earned him a great support within it.

Not only that, but had also succeeded in buying the lands where Sancre Tor was located, and was now intending on restoring the old holy city where his ancestors rested, and where Saint Alessia had received divine inspiration for her rebellion against the Ayleids.

It was a symbol of power and piety, and right now, those two were all that mattered in Tamriel.

-line brealer-

 _ **Author's Note:**_

Since the current Mages Guild is not affiliated with the Arcane University in the same way as its predecessor was, the ranks are obtained differently, and every guild hall is under the leadership of its own Master-Wizard, although they all answer to the Arch-Mage in Skingrad.

Next chapter, Harry either leaves Chorrol for a few travels, or does something else. I am leaning towards the first option, because I am heading into a major plot point which will affect the entire story, and it will happen near the Imperial City. I will also attempt to follow the lore, even its most obscure and unknown parts, such as the Imperial City being made up of several islands, and not just a single one (Pocket Guide to the Empire), and that the Temple of the One is not used for the worship of the Divines, but for the monotheistic deity of the Alessian Order, the One.

And if you don't mind, tell me how you feel about the new route I have decided to take in this version and how it currently compares to the original.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 5 – Bandits**_

 **Chorrol, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

"Evoker Henry, do you know where the Master-Wizard is?"

Harry turned around, having being distracted from his research by Volanaro, one of the two Wizard-ranked mages in Chorrol's guild.

"She left to Skingrad a few minutes ago." informed Harry "An emergency meeting of the Council of Mages, apparently."

Volanaro scowled, having wanted to speak to the woman regarding the alchemical supplies of the guild.

"I guess I have to wait then." stated the Altmer, before looking at what the young human was doing "And what exactly are you researching?"

"Combination of spells and their long and short term effects." said Harry, returning to the books on the desk, a few soul gems nearby for the study as well.

Volanaro eyed the young mage for a few seconds, before heading into the ground floor, Harry and Duharr, a young Ohmes-raht Khajiit male, being the only ones left. The other guild members were either in their personal rooms or were outside of the Guild Hall.

It had been eight weeks since he had joined the Mages Guild, and during said weeks he had become rather proficient at the usage and study of magic in Tamriel, enough for him to be raised to the rank of Evoker by Master-Wizard Eldrilu herself. The old Dunmer had then told him that she had not raised him to a higher rank because from there it required the approval of not just one Master-Wizard, but also from the Council of Mages. Or at least a majority of them.

Harry assumed that when he had entered the Aurbis, something in him had changed, since he had now strange…abilities…traits? The term was difficult for him to describe, but whatever they were, they had never manifested before in him. He seemed to have a high resistance to magic, and he noticed that the magical and alchemical arts were far easier to him than to other people, excluding the Altmer of course. And as he researched on the subject, Harry came to believe that in Tamriel, he was very likely a Breton. And it had been just him, as the others also had identified him as such.

He was one of the two Evokers in Chorrol's guild, another being a Redguard named Orrin. In Chorrol there were a total of nine fixed guild members, Harry having decided on being a non-Guild Hall mage, but having to stay there for the time being, as Sancre Tor was not yet completed. What remained of the old city was being restored quickly, the fortress and its inner walls being the only things that remained. When the fortress was complete, he would have to establish a few things, and one of his main goals was to make Sancre Tor a focal point for the Cult of Reman, much like the Temple of the One was a focal point for the Alessian Order.

The main problem was the fact that the Cult of Reman was primarily established in the Imperial City, amongst the other countless cults that existed in that metropolis. He could possibly convince a few of them to travel to the restored Sancre Tor, but he would also require for the old fortress to be secured from…possible intrusions. Nevertheless, he needed to go the Imperial City for two reasons: to petition the Elder Council or some other high authority of the Empire to official recognize the restoration of Sancre Tor, and to meet up with the Episcopates of the Cult of Reman. But he would only do so when the fortress was in a near-complete state.

Deciding to rest for a while, Harry stored the books and his materials inside the bag. Hidden beneath his robes was the Amulet of Kings, something he never kept away from him. And as he stored the books, Harry noticed that on the table, was a copy of the Black Horse Courier. He recognized it as his, considering it was filled with notes regarding what was written there. And that had been one of the most interesting moments of the weeks between now and his entrance into the Guild.

* * *

 **SPECIAL EDITION!**

 **SANCRE TOR UNDER RESTORATION!**

 _Sancre Tor, the ancient and sacred city which is believed by many to be not only the birthplace of Emperor Reman I, but also the birthplace of Saint Alessia's dream of a rebellion against the Wild Elves, has been acquired by a young Breton named Henry Cyrodiil, a possible descendant of Reman himself. The young Cyrodiil has funded the restoration of what remains of the old stronghold, having fallen into ruins since its abandonment by Tiber Septim and having its situation worsened by it being sealed by the Blades._

 _However, Sancre Tor is not the only thing on the sight of Henry Cyrodiil, as he has already funded the restoration of Stendarr's chapel in Chorrol, as well as the Guild of Mages. Count Marsus Caro has already expressed his thanks towards Henry for this generous act, and the public representative of the Temple of Stendarr in Cyrodiil has declared that Henry's action is a motive of praise towards the young one's piety and faith in the God of Mercy and Charity._

 _Regarding this matter, the Elder Council has not issued an official statement, but the citizens of Cyrodiil believe that with the restoration of Sancre Tor being an oncoming reality, it won't take long for such a thing to happen._

* * *

Harry looked at the article once again, feeling very pleased with himself. The fact that he had been recognized and praised by the local nobility and the Temple of Stendarr showed how his renown was rising in Cyrodiil, and if the Black Horse Courier was to be believed, then the Elder Council would also take notice, and that was exactly what he wanted.

Placing his copy on the bag as well, Harry grabbed his staff, and headed towards the entrance hall, in the ground floor. Once in the ground floor, he saw that a courier was there, having seemingly arrived moments before.

"Excuse me, are you Henry Cyrodiil?" asked the courier.

"Yes," he replied. "Why?"

"I have this note here, for you," said the courier, handing a sealed note to Harry. "It was given to me by an Orc woman."

Harry assumed that he was talking about Sharog gra-Mughol, the foreman and co-architect of the restoration of Sancre Tor.

"Did she give you anything else?" asked the young evoker.

"No. Only that," replied the man. "I have to go now. More things to deliver."

Harry nodded, and did not even bother to watch the courier leave. He simply opened the letter, and began to read.

* * *

 _Henry Cyrodiil,_

 _The inner fortress is completely restored, and the catacombs have been made "secure". We have made sure that the tomb of the Remans has received most attention. You now only need to furnish the place, but as it stands, the fortress of Sancre Tor is once again habitable. We now only have to finish the walls, and soon enough you shall have your own little city._

 _Sharog gra-Mughol_

* * *

A wide grin could be seen on Harry's face, and the young wizard, quickly went upstairs, grabbing an inkwell and a quill. He quickly wrote a small note, and headed downstairs again to place it on the reception desk, so that the Master-Wizard would know where he was. Or at least, where he was going.

Harry left the Guild Hall, the Great Oak of Chorrol in the middle of the round plaza. The young mage left the city as quick as he could, heading towards the forest, for now he had a single objective on his mind. He had to go to the Imperial City, and he would go there by broom. Unfortunately, the teleportation services of the Guild were not established in the Imperial City, but it was not that he mattered, as he enjoyed flying.

And that was exactly what he did.

* * *

 **The Heartlands, Cyrodiil**

Flying was…freedom.

To Harry, flying was possibly the best thing that was invented in the wizarding world. Sure, the muggles could fly to in their airplanes and other machines, but not in such a free way. He could go anywhere, from the ground to the top of a mountain in minutes, but even though he had to go to the Imperial City, Harry preferred to take the long route.

He was high in the sky, to the point where if a person down there looked up, they would think he was a bird. And if he was correct, he had spent at least an hour flying, and he did not regret any moment of it. But eventually, Harry began to see Lake Rumare in the distance, and as he came closer, he could also see what he believed to be the White-Gold Tower, standing in the central island, with many others surrounding it, connected by bridges.

Harry landed on a road, near a small village. The area was surrounded by trees and bushes, and Harry could hear the sounds coming from the nearby village. But as he headed towards the village, Harry began to hear sounds of fighting, coming from a road behind him. Harry quickly placed the broom inside the bag, and kept his staff ready for a possible confrontation. Harry hid behind a tree, and peeked, observing the confrontation.

There was a somewhat large group of bandits, attacking a travelling carriage. Its driver was dead, an arrow lodged on his head, but there were still some defending it. Harry could see that behind them was an elderly woman. Harry saw, as the defenders fell, leaving the woman without any protection. It was now or never.

Harry summoned a large amount of magicka, manifesting itself as sparks of lightning on his free hand. He aimed at the largest one, a bolt of lightning heading straight towards the bandit. It stroke him on his back, making a small thunder noise, and Harry watched as the man went stiff, only to fall on the ground a second later, dead. The next moments seemed to pass slowly, as he began to breathe rapidly. His mind was processing the fact that he had killed a person, just like that. Part of him felt strangely sick, but the greater part of his conscience kept telling him that they were bandits, and like that, they deserved it.

"Shit!" yelled one of the bandits "The boss's dead!"

The decision to take was rather rapid and sudden, as Harry got out of his hiding place, the crystal on top of his staff already sparking with power, ready to be unleashed. Upon doing so, the bandits realized that he was there, but they kept their eyes focused on Harry's staff. And as the crystal began to glow, the bandits also took a quick decision, and it was to run away. Unfortunately for them, however, Harry was not going to take any chances. When their distance was safe, Harry unleashed the power within the staff, a bolt of lightning heading straight towards the running brigands.

As soon as the bolt hit one, it split into various, each one of them heading towards the nearest bandit. In seconds, they either simply fell over dead, or disintegrated on the spot. To Harry, the moral dilemma had been quickly solved, and turned his attention to the woman, who was clearly shaken by the whole event.

"Are you all right, ma'am?" he asked, as he quickly approached her.

The woman was dressed in fine clothing, most of it covered by a long burgundy coat, while her hands were covered in gloves. She was most likely a noble or a part of a wealthy family.

"I-I…yes…I think I am." She said, her voice weary, but seemingly regaining her composure "Thank you, for saving me from those barbarians."

"It was nothing." said Harry, satisfied that he had possibly saved one life, despite having ended others.

"I knew I should have brought more bodyguards." she lamented "This was bound to happen, eventually."

"What was?" asked Harry confused.

The woman looked at the corpse of the bandit leader.

"Could you please check the body to see if he has a note of some sort?" she asked.

Harry looked at her in confusion, but did so anyway. As he searched the body, harry did discover a small note, written in a messy way. He opened the note, and began to read, his eyes widening the more he read. He then looked at the woman, incredulity expressed on his face.

"Y-You're the sister o-of the Emperor!?" he asked, his voice nervous and somewhat high, handing the note to the woman.

"Quite so." she said, taking the note "Faustina Mede, Duchess of the Gold Coast."

Harry was still struggling to understand that he had just saved a member of the Imperial family. On his first trip to the Imperial City, and his first noteworthy feat there is the rescue of the Emperor's sister from a group of bandits.

"I apologise, you Highness." he said "I had no idea that y-"

"There is no need to apologise." she said, interrupting him "Without you, I would be dead or worse. Although, may I ask for a favour?"

"O-Of course!"

"Since my carriage's driver is dead, and so are my bodyguards, would you escort this old lady to the Imperial City?" she asked "That was my destination before the attack happened."

"Actually, I was going to the city as well." he said.

"Wonderful!" exclaimed the woman "Whoever, I never asked for your name."

"Henry, ma'am." he revealed "Henry Cyrodiil."

The woman's eyes widened.

"You are Henry Cyrodiil? When the Black Horse Courier said that you were young, I did not expect you to be that young," she admitted. "I do commend you for you work in Chorrol and Sancre Tor. However, your appearance has thrown the Elder Council in disarray."

"Really?" questioned Harry, having been unaware of that "Why?"

"Your apparent connection to the Reman line of emperors, of course," she said. "You can imagine how the Council was affected after a line which was believed extinct, appears out of nowhere and starts to funds institutions, and the restoration of an ancient and ruined city."

"Oh, believe me, I have no intention of causing any trouble for the Council or the Emperor," stated Harry. "As we stand, Titus Mede II is the rightful ruler of the Empire, no matter what others may say."

"If you officially state that to the Elder Council, then they will be relieved," said Faustina. "Also, I insist that when we arrive at the city, you come with me to meet the Emperor. He will certainly wish to meet the one who has saved his only sister."

Harry began to wonder what exactly he had gotten himself into.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

And so here is another chapter. Next, we shall have Harry meeting Titus Mede II, and perhaps the Elder Council as well. From now on, the next events will be what defines the next part of the story's plot. Also, Count Marsus Caro is a descendent of Alessia Caro, who was the daughter of Countess Arriana Valga in Oblivion. Oh, from the way I am setting things, I am going to have so much fun when the Skyrim arc begins. And yes, I have made Harry a Breton, and Faustina is an OC.

The last part of this chapter was based on a random background text in Daggerfall, during character creation.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 6 – The Emperor of Tamriel**_

 **Imperial City, The Heartlands, Cyrodiil**

It was tricky to drive a carriage, and the damned horse didn't help. But at least Harry had not crashed into anything, and he and Faustina Mede succeeded in arriving at the Imperial City. The carriage was on the bridge towards the island which served as the Nobles District, having returned to this designation after the signing of the White-Gold Concordat, being previously called the Talos Plaza District. From what Harry could see, the Nobles District was perhaps one of the largest ones, and it was most certainly the district which embodied wealth in the Imperial City. From what he had read, to live in the Nobles District was a clear sign of wealth and prestige, and the only rich families which didn't so, was because they had their own estates outside of the Imperial City.

It took a few minutes for them to arrive at the entrance to the Nobles District, but as soon as they reached the isle, Faustina told him to stop.

"Huh, why?"

"It is forbidden to bring horses into the Imperial City," she said. "From here we have to go on foot. From what I saw before, I assume that we can reach the White-Gold Tower unharmed."

"Of course, your Highness," he said. "But where exactly do I leave the carriage."

"Oh, just leave it near the stables over there." she said, pointing at a small establishment. "They take care of it."

Harry nodded, and drove the carriage towards the stables, which were near the city gate. The two approached the city gates, and only then could Harry see how high the walls were, to the point of making him feel like a small child again. The city guards recognized Faustina Mede, and made haste to open the gates for Titus Mede's sister and her escort. A small honour guard had been there expecting her arrival, and upon seeing Faustina's escort, they questioned Harry's presence, who was quickly defended by the woman. And as soon as the two entered the district, the gates closing behind them, Faustina spoke to Harry.

"Tell me, young Henry, which deities do you worship?" she asked "Or at least, what cults do you follow?"

"Honestly, none now," he admitted. "I did fund the Chapel of Stendarr, but that was more of an act of generosity than of piety. I did come to the Imperial City to seek out the cult of Reman, though."

"I assume that you want to establish the cult in Sancre Tor."

"Yes, your Highness." said Harry "Although I find it strange, that while the worship of Talos was outlawed, the worship of other…deities such as Reman and Alessia weren't."

"The Elder Council did notice that detail in the White-Gold Concordat," she revealed. "They all agreed to keep silent though, or the Dominion would possibly attempt to include them in the treaty them as well. But we believe it's likely due to the grudge that many Altmer have against Tiber Septim, when he conquered the Summerset Isles."

This was somewhat interesting to Harry, as he had no idea that the fact that the Cult of Reman still existed was due to a distraction on the Aldmeri Dominion's part. In truth, he had read about both Reman and Tiber Septim, and he could not see what exactly made the latter more famous than the former. Sure, Talos could be or not a god, but it did not explain how he became one of the Divines. The "conquest" of Morrowind, then followed by the usage of a mechanical construct to basically crush the Altmer resistance to him? Whatever it was, he would have plenty of time to investigate.

Harry came to realize that the district was far greater than what he had imagined, and he began to have ideas about buying a home there. Only after a few minutes did he and Faustina Mede reach the gates into the bridge which would lead to the Green Emperor Way, one of the roads which led into the greater gardens which surrounded the White-Gold Tower. And as the two finally reached the gates into the Green Emperor Way, Harry found himself into some sort of park, with many topiaries shaped like heads decorating the road. When the road ended, they reached the lower section of the gardens, filled with tombstones and monuments, both old and new. He assumed that the area was a graveyard, which was rather strange, considering what stood at the centre of the gardens. This of course, was just the lowest layer which composed the gardens surrounding the Imperial Palace, at least four more being above them, and the fourth containing the White-Gold Tower.

But that was not where they were heading. Instead, the guard lead them into a staircase, which in turn led them onto a higher path, in truth the battlements of the wall. Harry looked directly at what stood in front of him, observing the large main dome of the tower's lower structure, above it a smaller one, but large too nonetheless. And reaching a section of the wall, they entered a straight path, leading into a circular platform with several white columns, very similar to the wayshrines he found near Chorrol. And finally, beyond it, an entrance into the main dome.

Harry looked at the tower, mesmerized by the magnificence of the White-Gold. It was huge, and its height surpassed many of the famous muggle skyscrapers. Faustina had noticed how entranced Harry was, amused by the youngster's awe.

"I presume that you never came to the Imperial City before?"

Harry shook his head, still hypnotized by the White-Gold Tower. But at the same time he could also feel something. It was almost like a…eagerness or excitement in the back of his mind, and it was similar to the sensation he had when in Sancre Tor.

"Let us go then." she said "My brother, the Emperor, waits."

Harry snapped out of his state, and nodded to Faustina Mede.

* * *

As soon as Harry and Faustina entered the White-Gold Tower, the two found themselves in a small corridor, which opened into a circular room, high columns creating a circle. Ahead, on the other side of the room, was a high platform, with a throne on top of it. This area of the palace was filled with many high-ranked soldiers. Faustina guided Harry towards the platform, the guards bowing as she passed.

Harry then saw that on the throne, was an elderly man, possibly of the same age or older than Faustina, wearing what was clearly some sort of imperial regalia. Harry immediately knew that this man was Titus Mede II, the Emperor of Tamriel. He was speaking to another person, and when he saw that his sister had arrived, Titus got up from the throne, and went straight towards her. He hugged the woman, and she returned the gesture.

"My sister, how was the voyage?" he asked. "And who is this boy?"

"It would have been better had you assigned more competent guards," she declared, in a somewhat angry tone. "I was attacked by bandits, and this boy was the one who saved me."

Titus looked at Harry, surprise on his face, but also relief.

"You saved Faustina?"

"Yes he did," said Faustina, not giving Harry the chance to speak. "Had it not been for him I would be either dead or on the clutches of those barbarians."

"I must say, I am impressed." said Titus "And you have my gratitude, for saving my sister."

"It was nothing, your Majesty." said Harry.

"Oh, it most certainly was," said Titus. "Faustina is what remains of my family."

The woman looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Aren't you forgetting about the Vicii, dear brother?"

"They do not count," retorted the Emperor very casually, before assuming a near-whispering tone "You know how much they lust after the throne, even though they have no Mede blood in them."

Harry could see Faustina roll her eyes, as if they had this type of conversation before.

"Now, may I know the name of the…erm…Breton, I assume, that helped my sister."

And once again, Faustina spoke first, not giving Harry time to even open his mouth.

"He is Henry Cyrodiil, the boy who has placed you and the Elder Council in this current state."

It took all of his willpower for Titus not to show surprise. He had been expecting someone…older. He had assumed that the Black Horse Courier had exaggerated in their description, but now it was evident that it had not been the case. Still, if this boy was truly a descendent of the Remans, then this presented a good opportunity, which he would try to preserve and hide for as long as possible. He had to be careful with the Elder Council, as they had become a little too crafty after the death of his two sons during the Great War.

"I admit, I had expected someone older, but regardless of your lineage or identity, you still have my gratitude." said the Emperor, before whispering something to his sister, who went somewhere.

Titus Mede II motioned Harry to follow him, and despite being suspicious of the Emperor's intentions, Harry did follow the man. He went with him towards a door, and the two went to a higher level of the palace, into a rather small corridor. Titus guided Harry into a door, and the two entered a somewhat small chamber, empty of people, allowing them privacy to talk.

"Tell me, young one, are you truly of the Reman line?" asked the Emperor.

"All that I discovered, and a few other things, point out that I am a descendant of Reman Cyrodiil," said Harry.

"Other factors?" asked Titus.

Harry took out from his bag the book belonging to Juilek, and opened it on the correct page, before handing it to the Emperor.

"This book was inside the tomb of Juilek Cyrodiil, and while you may doubt of its contents and authenticity, I can still prove it to you that what I claim is true." affirmed Harry.

Titus began to read the pages, his shock and surprise increasing with every passing moment. Having studied documents written in the past, and recognizing the letter of Prince Juilek, he had no doubts that what the young one was saying was true. It was basically impossible to copy Juilek's style, considering that all documents written or signed by him were stored within the Imperial Archives. But there was something he wanted to see with his eyes, despite knowing that he could not use said thing.

"You have the Amulet of Kings?" he asked.

Harry reached out into his robes, and took out the Amulet, still around his neck. Titus approached him, and observed the amulet with grand curiosity.

"Chim-El Adabal…" whispered Titus. "Amazing…"

"Your majesty?" asked Harry, returning the man to "reality".

"Yes, erm, I apologise," said Titus. "Do tell me, what happened upon your arrival in Sancre Tor?"

Harry described in detail the events which took place after his arrival in Tamriel, the Emperor listening silently and with much attention.

"My goals?" he asked, confused.

"You are new to Tamriel, and yet you have already gathered an impressive amount of fame amongst the citizens of Cyrodiil," said Titus. "And your restoration of Sancre Tor is an admirable work, for such a young mind. Although, you seem to have a behaviour which is rather strange to see in someone of your age. But from Sancre Tor, what is that you wish to build?"

That was a rather good question. Besides gathering fame, power and wealth, Harry truly didn't know what he wanted to do Tamriel, in a wide scale.

"I…I actually have no idea." he admitted "I mean, I do need to invest in certain businesses to maintain my current wealth, and I wish to continue my work of funding certain things, such as I have with the Mages Guild. But I actually have not thought what I want to do in the long run."

"In that case, I want to make a proposal," suggested Titus.

"A proposal?"

"I have no doubt that the Divines have brought you to this world for a reason, whatever it may be. But your presence here in Cyrodiil is most certainly not a coincidence, especially in times like these," said the Emperor. "What I would like to propose, is to make you a…ward of the Empire."

"A ward of the Empire?" asked Harry confused.

"Essentially, you would be under the care of the Empire, and considering your current career as a mage, and special status, you would have certain privileges, such as acess to the Imperial Library, which I am sure that will be very useful to a mage-in-training," explained Titus. "Of course, you will also be educated on other matters, such as law and similar subjects."

This whole situation was confusing Harry to previously unreached extents.

"But… but why?"

"Part of it is because of your rescue of Faustina," said Titus "But I'm afraid I can't reveal the other reasons, at least right now. Take your time."

Something in his mind was shouting "yes", urging him to accept the offer, much like his mage's instinct was telling him as well. But his offer was very generous…and useful. It was an easy choice, but one that would, unknowingly to him, shape his entire life during the next years.

"I… I accept."

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

The appearance of the White-Gold Tower comes from its appearance in "The Siege" and "Final Confrontation" cinematic trailers for The Elder Scrolls Online, and the Imperial City is based on its description from the Pocket Guide to the Empire, and its appearance in Oblivion.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language/Speech"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 7 – The Lady of Infinite Energies**_

 **Imperial City, The Heartlands, Cyrodiil**

Harry's days in the Imperial City had been very busy, the young boy under constant study and training. Emperor Titus Mede II had made sure that he had the best possible education in the Empire, in all fields available, something which Harry had enjoyed. Most who knew him saw how he "absorbed" all that was taught to him, and how much the Emperor's ward enjoyed learning. Being managed by the Elder Council, the Arcane University had also been one of Harry's many places of study, and it had been one of his favourites.

The first months of his presence in the Imperial City had been marked a grand influx of rumours to the Imperial City, which the Elder Council quickly took to diminish, through official statements. Harry had found the Elder Council to be a rather efficient governmental body, working in "harmony" with the Emperor. He was not naive to the point of ignoring the ambition that some of the councillors had, but they were all quenched under the High Chancellorship of Abnur Tharn. Harry knew that the man was part of the famous House Tharn, of the Nibenay region of Cyrodiil, and how many of its members were important figures in the history of Cyrodiil.

But what Harry had found most interesting, were the rumours surrounding the man. Some said that he was the same Abnur Tharn as the one from the Second Era, others believed that he was a descendent of the traitor Jagar Tharn. But High Chancellor Tharn never confirmed or denied the rumours, which made the people of Cyrodiil even more intrigued about the man. Nevertheless, from the comments he had heard, the man was an efficient High Chancellor, not that that mattered to him anyway, at least at the moment.

Harry was also a common sight in the Temple district, normally going to the Temple of the Cult of Reman to pray and worship. He sometimes also went to the respective worship sites of the Eight Divines, although it was more common to see him worship Shezarr, a deity which had risen to prevalence since the outlawing of Talos worship, than any of the Eight Divines. In the months he had spent in Cyrodiil, Harry had begun to discard his previous life more and more, to the point of fully self-identifying as a Breton and rejecting "James Potter" as part of his name, his true origins only known to him and to the Emperor.

He was known to the people of the Empire as either Henry Cyrodiil, or as Reman Cyrodiil, the Viscount of Sancre Tor by decree of the Emperor himself. He had adopted the banner of the Second Empire as his own, a golden representation of the Amulet of Kings with a red-purple background, and it now dominated the walls of Sancre Tor restored. He had made sure to visit the cities of Cyrodiil, and to become acquainted with their citizens, as it had been one of the requests of the Emperor. Harry had no idea why Titus Mede wanted it, but he had done so anyway. He had also made sure to invest in a few businesses, such as the East Empire Company. He needed to keep the money flowing in after all, and Sancre Tor was not enough for his standards.

But there were also a few times when Harry usually went to the wilderness of Cyrodiil, wanting to explore the Imperial Province. And so, on the 13th of Morning Star, one year after his arrival in Tamriel, Harry's travels took him to a secluded spot, near Skingrad.

* * *

 **Meridia's Shrine, West Weald, Cyrodiil**

Harry wondered exactly where he was. He had stumbled upon an isolated hill near Skingrad, and he had been attracted to it by the statue which could be seen from below. But as he approached the site, Harry could see that it was mostly derelict, and there was none in the vicinity. However, as he looked at the statue, he recognized who was being represented, as he had seen drawings of said statue in some books regarding Cyrodiil and the worship of Daedra.

And if he was not wrong, then Harry had just "entered" a shrine to Meridia, the Daedric Prince of Infinite Energies. He had thought it strange, that the shrine was empty, considering that this was Meridia's Summoning Day. Harry had always been curious about the Daedra, and this presented an opportunity for study, especially since Meridia was one of the Princes of Oblivion usually regarded as "good".

The young mage approached the statue, and opened his bag, removing from within a handful of bonedust. He placed it on the ground, and took a few steps back.

"With this offering from the remains of the desecrated dead, I summon thee Meridia, Lady of Infinite Energies, from thy realm of Coloured Rooms, in desires that thee may shine thy favour on me."

Harry was sure that that was tine correct incantation for the summoning of Meridia. At least that was what was written in the tomes inside the Arcane University. And it appeared that he was right, for the bonedust burst into golden flames, which consumed it in mere seconds. In front of the statue, emerge a bright light, and Harry could see a blurry silhouette within, which he assumed to be Meridia.

" _ **By the detritus of the profane, I am brought forth. And by your offering, you have made the profane your interest, mortal. The undead are foul, unnatural things. Some of my rivals take pleasure in these abominations. Not Meridia,"**_ declared the apparition. _ **"I wish these creatures destroyed. A group of upstart necromancers have taken refuge inside one of my secluded shrines, inside the ruins of Elenglynn. In slaughtering my followers, and desecrating my shrine with their reanimated corpses, those necromancers have earned my wrath. You shall be the instrument of my cleansing light."**_

Harry had no intention to infuriate the Daedric Prince, and this proved to be a good opportunity to gain the blessing of a powerful Daedra.

"I shall do your bidding, Lady Meridia."

" _ **Go then, but take caution,"**_ warned Meridia. _**"These necromancers are not to be underestimated. Return to this very shrine, when you are successful."**_

The golden light disappeared, leaving Harry alone in the secluded shrine. The mage prepared himself for the eventual confrontation with the necromancers, and spent a while checking his supplies and available weapons, before he felt prepared to head off to the ruins.

* * *

 **Elenglynn, Great Forest, Cyrodiil**

Harry approached the ruins, the only wildlife around being at least one deer, wandering about. There was no sign of necromancers on the outside, which meant that they were obviously inside of the ancient Ayleid settlement. He went towards the entrance, a staff on his right hand, and a steel longsword on his belt. He also wore a Second Empire styled Ebonthread armour, which had been made especially for him, and it was quite light compared to other armours.

He entered the ruins, and immediately used a Detect Dead spell, followed by a Detect Life one. With the two, Harry could see the auras of being, in the depths of Elenglynn, while the entrance zone was pretty much empty. He went down the stairs, passing through a few corridors and watching out for traps, avoiding those that he managed to see. But as he entered the main hall of the Ayleid city, Harry ceased to be alone.

There were a few people wandering about, most of them dressed normally. But there was something different about them, as they were pale, and their eyes were of a bluish-darkish colour. They also seemed to walk in a strange way, almost as if they had difficulty doing so. It was then that Harry noticed the wounds in their bodies, and the dried blood in their clothes. He narrowed his eyes, realizing that these "people" were in fact undead.

" _Most likely Meridia's worshippers."_ he thought.

Harry enveloped himself with an invisibility spell, and began to sneak past the zombies which littered the room. But as he sneaked, he noticed a statue of Meridia in the middle of the room, with a necromancer near it. He was looking at the statue, and Harry moved a little to the side, allowing him to see the face of the other mage. His eyes widened when he recognized the man, being one of the former members of the Mages Guild, which had decided to leave it because of certain and obvious disagreements.

Harry grabbed his staff, and aimed it at the man. Upon doing so, his invisibility broke, and as it did he unleashed a powerful bolt of lightning upon the necromancer, whose sole reaction was to scream upon being hit by the spell from Harry's staff. As he fell onto the ground, his body empty of life, some of the undead in the room also fell onto the ground, fully dead once more. However, Harry quickly got the attention from the others, who began to shamble towards him.

The young Breton began to gather magicka, and he then unleashed it all towards a single undead, watching as the bolt of lightning spread across in a chain reaction, hitting every undead in the room, returning them all to their previous state. Harry once more used the Detect Life and Dead spells, realizing that while there were no more undead in the ruins, there were still two other life signs, in another section.

But as he walked towards the place where the other two necromancers were, Harry was surprised by having them enter the large hall instead, being drawn by the noise. Harry's eyes locked with those of the leader of the small group of necromancers, the two widening in utter surprise.

"Cyrodiil!" yelped the leader of the necromancers. "What are you doing here!?"

Harry dismissed his shock, assuming a somewhat sneaky combat stance. He certainly had not been expecting to find a former member of the guild here. Well… that was certainly a lie, considering who rogues were usually the source of these problems.

"Gaban, I should have known that you were mixed up in this," said Harry. "What brings you to this…old ruin?"

Harry made sure to say that with much boredom as he could, wanting to see the reaction of his former college.

"I could ask you the same," retorted the other. "Finally got tired of being the Emperor's pet?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, but decided not to take the bait.

"No, I came here for another reason," he stated. "You see, Meridia has called for your death, and I do not intend to disappoint."

The other Breton simply snorted.

"So, now you're a Daedra's pet?" he taunted. "I guess you are rising in the ranks."

Harry simply began to charge up his staff, the crystal beginning to glow.

"Is that a tone of jealousy I hear?" asked Harry mockingly. "I am afraid though, that Lady Meridia has an endless hatred towards you lot."

The other snarled, and began to attack Harry, launching fireballs at him. Harry used a Spell Absorption spell, the magicka in the fireball being consumed by his body. Harry responded by casting an spell of Sever Magicka at Gaban, followed by a Frost Bolt at the other necromancer. The severing of magicka was not enough, for the necromancer was able to quickly cast a Lightning Bolt at Harry, hitting him on his left arm.

Harry growled with pain, cursing himself for not paying attention. But his growl turned into one of irritation and anger, the death of the two necromancers becoming an immediate priority. He cast a Paralyze at the second necromancer, only to use a powerful bolt of lightning against Gaban, making the older Breton fall back. Harry took out his sword, and decapitated the paralyzed mage, before turning his attention to the other.

Gaban too, seemed not to be amused by the whole ordeal, and he summoned a skeleton to fight for him. The conjured undead went straight towards Harry, who deflected its attacks with the staff. Harry noticed that Gaban was attempting to escape from the ruins, and as he kicked the skeleton on its lower bones, he pointed the staff at the running necromancer, casting a powerful bolt of lightning at him. The spell struck Gaban on his back, making the man disintegrate as he screamed, while Harry tried to deflect a blow that never came from the skeleton, which disappeared after the death of its summoner.

Harry opened his bag, and took out two potions, one of health and one of magicka. He drank the two quickly, and stored the bottles inside the bag, wanting to use them later. It was time to return to the other shrine of Meridia.

* * *

 **Meridia's Shrine, West Weald, Cyrodiil**

Harry approached the statue, not exactly being sure of what to do now. Was he to summon Meridia again?

His question was answered, as a golden light emerged, and the same silhouette from before appeared, this time having a more clear shape. It was clearly a woman, although Harry could help but think she looked like a yellow ghost. Yet she then spoke to him, in the same demanding, but motherly tone as before.

" _ **Well done, mortal,"**_ she complimented. _**"In destroying the necromancers, and having freed my followers from their accursed spell, you have performed a great service to me."**_

A smaller golden light appeared before him, and it took the shape of a glowing sword, its crossguard emanating a bright light.

" _ **Take this weapon, which you mortals call Dawnbreaker,"**_ she said. _**"It has been resting deep within a temple of mine in the province of Skyrim, but I shall be more useful in your hands. With it you shall be the herald of new day. Take the mighty Dawnbreaker, and purge this world of corruption in my name."**_

"This blade shall fulfil its purpose, Lady Meridia." declared Harry.

" _ **One moment, champion."**_ she said.

Harry watched as the shade of Meridia approached, and as raised her hand, it began to glow brightly. Harry watched as she placed a finger on his forehead, and in less than a second he felt a burning pain spread across his entire body. He could also feel something faintly fighting back against the light, but it proved to be useless, as whatever it was, it ceased to be in moments. Meridia moved back, to her original spot, and Harry's first reaction was to touch his scar.

" _ **The foul corruption within your scar is gone,"**_ she declared. _**"The splinter of a soul which resided within it, is now banished to the void of Oblivion."**_

Harry paled upon the declaration of Meridia, but soon calmed down, remembering that the Daedric Prince had removed it.

" _ **Now, go forth, my champion,"**_ she commanded. _**"And may the light of certitude guide your efforts."**_

Harry watched Meridia disappear, and he began to admire the weapon on his hands. It was certainly a thing of beauty. And as he had said, he would put it to good use.

Good use, indeed.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 8 – Excuse the Gloom**_

 **Imperial City, Heartlands, Cyrodiil**

There was little to no reaction towards Harry's new weapon. Only the most knowledgeable scholars and a very few other people knew, or suspected, that what Harry held was a Daedric artefact. But most did not care, although Harry himself suspected that Tutus Mede II knew what his sword truly was and where it came from. And if he did, the old man did nothing about it, and Harry much liked the way things were right now. The young Cyrodiil continued his daily life as usual, apart from his secret worship of Meridia. Although certain types of Daedra worship were legal and tolerated in the Empire, it was still somewhat of a taboo for someone to publicly claim to be a Daedra worshipper.

Despite worshipping the Eight Divines in their entirety, Harry also had another set of deities which he personally worshipped, amongst them Reman, Meridia, Shezarr and Magnus. For the people of the Imperial City, the inclusion of Magnus on Harry's favourite deities was rather strange, but most dismissed it, believing that it was his Breton culture that was surfacing.

Over the months that followed, Harry's own standing amongst the citizens of Cyrodiil grew, most due to his outspoken hatred against non-scholar necromancy and all undead, and the fact that the young mage made his words real, as he ventured into the caves and ruins of Cyrodiil with the intent of eradicating any possible undead abomination, and unknown to them, all in the name of Meridia. And if he found bandits in these quests, then he would get rid of them as well. The sword Dawnbreaker was very useful in these situations, and in a few months, Harrison Cyrodiil became a universally hated and feared character amongst brigands and rogue necromancers in Cyrodiil. Harry had wanted to please both Meridia and the people of the Empire, and he had not disappointed. He had become a very popular figure in the Empire, and he certainly enjoyed his status.

Harry saw Titus Mede II as some sort of mentor figure to him, but strangely enough, the old emperor had sometimes called Harry to offer advice in certain situations, which Harry did at the best of his skills. It was not exactly uncommon to see him in the White-Gold Tower, normally wandering around the Elder Council chambers, when it was empty.

His adventures in the wilderness of Cyrodiil had caused his skills in magic to grow to rather high levels, which led to the Mages Guild to assign him the rank of Warlock. But from there arose a small problem, as the Mages Guild was a rival organization to the Synod and the College of Whispers. And with the growing influence of the Mages Guild in Cyrodiil, and the fact that one of its members served as an advisor of sorts to the Emperor, led to some members of those two factions to attempt slandering Harry's image with false rumours. Needless to say, Harry did not take that very well, and neither did the Emperor or the Elder Council. The members of those two factions who had spread the rumours were apprehended and sent to the Imperial Prison, while the Synod and the College were both fined and many privileges removed from them.

Harry could not help but think that said action had caused irreparable damage to the two factions, while at the same time it had catapulted the Mages Guild to the top of Cyrodiil's organizations which were related with magic. And it had been right after that incident that Harry began to observe more closely the politics of the Empire, all of them becoming of interest to the young man. This whole cycle of events continued, until the year of 201, when the Emperor summoned the seventeenth year old Harry to a small chamber in the basement of the Imperial Palace.

* * *

It was late at night, and Harry wondered why the Emperor had summoned him to the basement of the White-Gold Tower. There were no guards in the basement, but there was only one person there, next to a small door.

"High Chancellor?" questioned Harry as he approached.

Said man's head snapped towards Harry, in alarm.

"Keep your voice down, Cyrodiil!" he whispered, before opening the door behind him "The Emperor is inside."

Harry nodded, and quickly entered the room, while Abnur Tharn observed the darkened basement, before entering the room as well, closing the door behind him. As he had said, Titus Mede II was inside, sitting in a rather comfortable chair, while a large bucket filled with sand was next to the chair. Tharn grabbed an unlit torch, and with a weakened fire spell, he lit the torch, dimly illuminating the room, and allowing Harry to better see the Emperor and Tharn.

"I apologise for the… gloom, but this conversation cannot be known by any others," said the Emperor while Tharn placed the torch on the wall, and sat down on another chair.

Harry noticed that the Emperor was motioning him to sit down as well, and Harry did so, facing the Emperor directly, and finally noticing how grave the old man's expression was.

"Your majesty?" he asked.

The emperor stood in silence for a few seconds, as if lost in thought, before turning to Harry.

"A week ago, I received a notice from the province of Skyrim, more specifically, from the steward of the High King," revealed the Emperor. "I came to know, that High King Torygg has been murdered by the Jarl of Windhelm, Ulfric Stormcloak."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise, not being aware of said event.

"Wasn't he the one who was arrested by the Thalmor a few decades ago?" asked Harry.

"Indeed." said the Emperor "Stormcloak has retreated to the city of Windhelm, and has claimed the title of High King of Skyrim, declaring independence from the Empire, using the worship of Ysmir, or Talos, as one of the reasons."

Harry has known from his studies that while the person of Tiber Septim had been worshipped as Talos in Cyrodiil, he was known as both Talos and Ysmir in Skyrim, and was part of the Nordic pantheon as well, not mattering how odd that was. However, the ban of Talos worship had been extended to all his "aspects", not just to the Cyrodilic one.

"Some of the Jarls of Skyrim have pledged their support to Ulfric's rebellion, although there are others who have not. This situation remains uneasy for us, as an independent Skyrim would not just bring ruin to the Empire, but would make the Nords extremely vulnerable to the Aldmeri Dominion."

"What do you wish of me?" asked Harry.

"I shall send you to Skyrim, and there you will be a… representative of mine," responded Titus. "You will keep an eye on the Jarls, and move quickly to replace any which shows signs of treachery. You have grown much these years, and all the skills and abilities which you have acquired shall be put to the test in this mission I have for you."

Harry stood silent, his face not reflecting any emotion he had. But he was surprised. Indeed, he had not been expecting that the emperor would trust him with such an issue.

"You will work alongside General Tullius, who has already been sent to the province and is currently stationed in Solitude," explained the Emperor. "However, unlike him, you shall have a more…free approach to things. You are not restricted to a single location, and I expect you to move across the region. And if you succeed, I shall reveal to you the second reason I took you in after you saved my sister."

Harry's already high interest in his mission was elevated even more.

"I ask this of you as your Emperor, but also as your friend," said Titus as he took the torch from Tharn, who had removed it from the wall. "Now, rest this night, for tomorrow you shall travel to the Kingdom of Skyrim."

And the last thing Harry saw inside the chamber, was the Emperor extinguishing the flame of the torch, but burying it inside the bucket of sand.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

This chapter, which was a homage to Daggerfall, is very short on purpose. This marks the end of the "Cyrodiil/Prologue arc" of the story, and the next chapter marks the start of the main arc.

Hope you have all enjoyed the story to this point.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 9 – Regents**_

 **Imperial City, Heartlands, Cyrodiil**

Harry had made sure to prepare himself for his upcoming stay in Skyrim, even if he was not exactly eager to trade the temperate and verdant region of Cyrodiil for the near-frozen wastes and tundra of Skyrim. He had long since ceased to use his Ebonthread armour, replacing it with a Second Empire-style quicksilver armour, a small red diamond on the cuirass, both representing his allegiance to the Empire, and also his lineage. However, he had not ceased to use Dawnbreaker, as it was his main melee weapon.

He still had his staff, but rearely used magic with it, and still had Juilek's sword as well, although that one had been stored away safely inside his bag ever since he had received Dawnbreaker from Meridia.

Anyone who looked at him did not see the child which had suddenly appeared out of nowhere a few years ago. They simply saw a man, ready to defend and serve the Empire in all his capacities, which was what he had done until now, and he had no intention of ceasing to do so. And he now had to prove himself to the Emperor once more, but this time on a greater scale, for he was to participate directly in the growing civil war in the province of Skyrim.

But his thoughts sometimes diverged away from Tamriel, and he found himself thinking about Earth and his family. He knew that he could not return now, as after an extensive study of the book he had discovered that the portal had been activated incorrectly, which had apparently made both the Aurbis and his home universe temporally uneven, according to the expert mages, which had taken an unbreakable vow, and their study of the book. There was a small wound in the gateway between the two realities, and he had to let it heal before doing the ritual again. He was the centrepiece of the portal, and while the Aurbis moved at normal time, the Universe did not. But he would have plenty of time to think about said issues later, when the possibility of Skyrim falling from Imperial control, and into the hands of a power-hungry demagogue was non-existent.

But still, as Harry looked out into the faraway Jerall Mountains, from the pinnacle of the White-Gold Tower, he could only smile, knowing what was coming next, for he most certainly loved to fly, and Solitude was far away.

Really far away.

* * *

 **Skyrim**

Even though Harry kept tight on his opinion about the contrast of atmosphere between Skyrim and Cyrodiil, Harry could not help but feel that flying through the skies of the northern province was proving to be more fun than flying through Cyrodiil, although the Imperial Province kept the positive trait of being more pleasant to the eye. For some reason, he felt at home when flying, be it in Skyrim or in Cyrodiil. Oddly enough, the sky was as comfortable, if not more, than being on the ground.

As Harry went at high speed towards one of the highest mountains he had ever seen, he could not help but stare at what seemed to be some sort of fortress right in the middle of the mountain. He wondered who would be crazy enough to live there, especially since there were bound to be snow storms and the possibility of an avalanche that could perhaps bring the whole structure down. But as he thought of that, Harry became aware of the fact that said fortress had been there perhaps for several years, if not centuries. Shrugging, the young wizard went towards the high sky, before making way to the region where Solitude was supposed to be.

As much fun as he was having, there was work to be done.

* * *

 **Solitude, Haafingar, Skyrim**

Harry landed in a small forest outside of the walls of Solitude, but not before observing the city himself. The city was large, although not as large as the Imperial City. If he had to make a fair comparison, it would have to be between Solitude and Skingrad, since the two had almost the same size, even though Solitude was built on a strange bridge-like natural formation.

As soon as he had placed the broom inside the bag, Harry went towards the city entrance, passing though the guards and opening the city gates himself. Entering the city, Harry made his way towards Castle Dour, where General Tullius was supposedly at. That is, if he was not at the Blue Palace. As he walked through the streets, Harry noticed that there was a clear influence of Colovian architecture on the buildings of Solitude, making the city a strange hybrid of both Imperial and Nord culture, although it leaned more on the Imperial side than the Nord.

He eventually reached the ramp which led onto the courtyard of the castle, and upon reaching said location, Harry found it to be filled with both Imperial soldiers and Solitude guards which were training. Ignoring them, Harry made his way into Castle Dour, its entrance being very obvious. The interior of the fortress was rather dusty, and Harry could hear the sound of two people talking coming from behind a closed doorway. Recognizing one of the voices, Harry opened the door to said room, inside being General Tullius and a female Imperial soldier, most likely a Legate, the two at a table with a map of Skyrim. The two looked at the newcomer, and Harry could see the surprise and confusion in Tullius's face, while the female soldier simply showed confusion.

"Viscount?" asked Tullius surprised, not being informed of his arrival "What are you doing here?"

"The Emperor sent me here." replied Harry, being used to be called by his title instead of his name "I believe that this will clarify the situation, though."

Harry took out from his bag two sealed envelopes, giving one to General Tullius, but keeping the other with his name to himself. Tullius took the envelope and opened it, removing the letter inside, and recognizing the Emperor's writing. As he read it, Tullius became even more surprised with the contents, not quite believing what was written there.

"Why did the Emperor sent you here to work for me?"

"Not for you. With you." corrected Harry "I don't exactly know what the Emperor's goals are, but he mentioned this as a test of sorts. And you may notice that the letter declares both you and me as co-regents of Skyrim. At least until this whole issue is over and this country gets a new High King…or Queen."

Tullius hummed, not exactly pleased with the Emperor's meddling, but not seeing what harm the Viscount could bring to the Empire in the civil war, considering his life and feats in Cyrodiil since he had appeared and made the Elder Council go crazy with the whole issue with the Reman bloodline.

"While you continue to direct the military approach to the war, I shall serve more as a…well…inquisitor, shall we say." tried to explain Harry "I will be in charge of keeping the Imperial aligned Jarls in line, deposing those who show signs of…treason, and replacing them with more Imperial minded individuals who are actually competent and smart enough to remain in the Empire."

Harry then remembered that there was someone else in the room as well.

"Oh, I apologise for my rudeness." he said, before introducing himself to the female soldier. "Reman Cyrodiil, Viscount of Sancre Tor."

Rikke's training was enough for her to mask her surprise, at the fact that the one in front of her was not just a viscount, but "the Viscount". The famous ward of the Emperor himself and crusader against all profane things, such as the undead.

"A pleasure to meet you sir." she said before introducing herself as well "Legate Rikke, General Tullius's chief lieutenant."

Harry gave a small smile, akin to someone who knows that the fun is just about to begin.

"Now that we're all introduced, I would like to be updated on the current status of Skyrimm" he said, before moving towards one of the table's sides.

"As we stand, the Empire controls five holds in this province. Haafingar, the Reach, Hjaalmarch, Falkreath and the Rift." explained Tullius "The rebels, on the other hand, only control Eastmarch, the Pale and Winterhold."

"What about Whiterun?" questioned Harry.

"Whiterun is…complicated." said Tullius.

"Jarl Balgruuf claims to be neutral in the conflict, and refuses to claim allegiance to either us or them." said Rikke.

That was both a smart and a not so smart move, at least on Harry's perspective.

"Any… signs of rebel sympathisers amongst the Jarls?" he questioned.

"We suspect that Jarl Laila Law-Giver is in contact with Ulfric, assisting him behind the scenes, but wanting to continue in the good graces of the Empire," said Tullius. "However, we have not been able to prove that true."

"Leave that to me." declared Harry "I'll make sure that Law-Giver's true allegiance is exposed. Anything else?"

"Well, despite the whole Forsworn issue in Markarth, I don't think there is anything more that I can say."

"I will deal with Markarth later." stated Harry. "For now I will remain focused on Riften alone. I will depart tomorrow, after I explain the current state of things to the late High King's wife. However, I want a small force of legionnaires to be sent to Riften under my command. I don't exactly trust the city guard, and there is only one person I can trust in that city."

"Who?" asked Tullius.

Harry chuckled, in an amused way that unnerved both Tullius and Rikke.

"It's a surprise," said the Cyrodiil. "That is for me to know, and for you to wonder."

He then took a deep breath, focusing on certain things.

"At least for now."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 10 – Riften**_

 **Solitude, Haafingar, Skyrim**

Harry observed the Blue Palace with curiosity, the majority of its walls covered with ivies, and its windows somewhat similar to those of Hogwarts. The structure of the palace reminded him of his grandfather's house, where he had lived since he could remember. He was accompanied by General Tullius, and the two entered the palace, being saluted by the guards. Inside, Harry found it to be somewhat smaller than what he expected, but he had already ceased to take things for granted, especially regarding the interior size of certain buildings.

The two went to the throne room, which was on the first floor of the building, and as they reached it, Harry saw that the Jarl was holding court. However, the first thing he noticed were the glowing golden eyes of the court wizard, something that no one else was capable of seeing, for some reason. Harry's mind quickly registered that she was a vampire, but one of those who like to hide themselves amongst humans. As much as he was a crusader of sorts against all kinds of undead, he had nothing against those who decided to keep themselves controlled and living their normal lives, much like Count Janus Hassildor in Skingrad, except that since the Oblivion Crisis his longevity was pretty much a sign of obvious vampirism, since he was a human and not an elf. Not that the people cared, since the man was basically loved by them.

In situations such as these, Harry simply turned a blind eye. And he did so once more, for his current issue was the mess caused by Stormcloak, and he had to make sure that Jarl Elisif understood exactly what had changed with his arrival. And as Tullius approached the Jarl, Harry made sure to be exactly at his side, not a few steps behind the man. He wanted to make a point.

"General Tullius." said Elisif warily eyeing Harry "What brings you here?"

"Jarl Elisif, I would like to present Viscount Henry of Sancre Tor." he said "The Emperor has sent him here to assist me in my tasks."

All eyes in the throne room were turned towards Harry, the young battlemage clearly enjoying the attention, but keeping said sentiment hidden from them.

"Greetings, Lady Elisif. The Emperor sent me to assist General Tullius in the regency over Skyrim," said Harry. "At least until a new High King or Queen is elected."

"I see," said Elisif. "If there is anything we can do to assist…"

"No need to concern yourself, Lady Elisif. I will be travelling a lot through the regions of Skyrim, to evaluate the behaviour and loyalty of the Jarls," he said. "General Tullius remains as your… main figure here in the province. I'll be more on the… erm, administrative side of things."

"Nothing has changed then." stated a man, which seemed to be the Jarl's steward.

Harry chuckled in a low tone.

"Oh, believe me, it may seem that nothing has changed, but you will see exactly what my…inclusion in this will bring." said Harry "In any case, I tomorrow depart to Riften. I have to investigate the rumours about the supposed involvement of Jarl Law-Giver with the rebels. I bid you a good day."

He turned around and left as quickly as he could, those in the room he had left becoming slightly worried, while General Tullius was already expecting this kind of behaviour coming from the Viscount. A bit too hasty, on his opinion.

Harry quickly made his way to Castle Dour, while Henry decided to go the inn near the entrance to Solitude. He wanted to eat something and rest for a while, as tomorrow he would have a lot of work on his hands.

* * *

It was late at night, and Harry sat on a bed, inside a room he had rented in the Winking Skeever. He had made sure to lock the door with all the enchantments he could find, not trusting the fact that he was inside an inn in the capital city of Skyrim. His armour was on the corner of the room, next to the bag, and he was wearing rather comfortable pyjamas, with the Amulet of Kings around his neck. He always had it with him, even when he washed himself. It was a possession he would only relinquish when he finally died, which would hopefully happen only many decades later.

It was then that Harry began to have a few ideas about what he could do regarding the Jarl of the Rift, most of those things involving the Veritaserum which he had made a few months ago when he had become somewhat proficient at potions from his original universe. He had made a large enough stock of the thing, and he was certain that it would be very useful, not just with the issue in Riften, but with many possible and eventual situations in the future.

But now the only thing Harry wanted to do was to sleep, and that was exactly what he did.

* * *

The next morning, after eating breakfast and putting on his armour, Harry made sure to head towards Castle Dour, intending on reminding General Tullius of his request for the soldiers. He had been surprised when the man had told him that he had already sent the legionnaires he had requested to Riften, which made his work easier. However, Harry could not help but feel as if the lack of a proper transportation service in Skyrim would eventually prove to be a problem in the future. Harry began to think that it would be a good idea to establish the Mages Guild in Skyrim as well, expanding the influence of said organization, and allowing him to use instant transportation from one city to another, much like it happened in Cyrodiil, the Imperial City excluded. That is, until he had learned of the Mark and Recall spells. That had changed a lot of things. Once he had a clear understanding of the locations of Skyrim, he would be able to use it freely in the Northern Provice.

The problem would be to expand the guild into the rebel controlled cities, as Harry was aware that the majority of Skyrim's population had a very negative opinion of magic since the Oblivion Crisis and the Great Collapse, even though the first was caused by a Daedric cult and the causes of the second were still up to debate, and it was most likely a collateral effect of the eruption of Red Mountain which only happened years later. Harry could only feel disdain towards the general perception that Nords had towards magic.

When Harry left the city, it was close to midday, and entering the fort nearby, Harry took out his broom, and flew into the skies, away from the sight of all people below, and headed at high speed towards the Rift, taking time to observe the ground deep below him, searching for any villages.

* * *

 **Riften, The Rift, Skyrim**

Harry knew that Riften had seen better days, but he had not expected the city to be in such a state. What was supposed to be the capital of the hold was in such a state of disrepair, that it seemed to have been abandoned long ago. It felt more like a village than a proper city, and the only buildings that stood out were the Temple of Mara and Mistveil Keep. Upon arriving, Harry was greeted by a group of legionnaires, who had seemed to recognize him, despite never having met the young regent before. As they approached, the soldiers saluted Harry, a gesture which the young battlemage returned.

They could not see his face, for Harry had the helmet on, but they knew that he was rather young for his current office.

"When did you arrive?" asked Harry.

"Early this morning, sir." said one of the soldiers.

"Well then, follow me." commanded Harry "We shall go to the keep, and once we are there, four of you shall remain outside guarding it. Am I understood?"

The response was positive, and Harry entered the city, followed by the Imperial soldiers. He was eyes strangely by the city guard, and he made sure to speak about it to his friend in the city. In less than five minutes he arrived at the keep, and entered it, in his usual unceremonious way. Harry saw that the Jarl was sitting on the throne, and leaning on one of the walls was most likely her bodyguard, or housecarl as the Nords called them.

"I assume that you are from the Imperial Legion." Said the Jarl, her voice steady and not showing any signs of nervousness.

"You would assume incorrectly Jarl Law-Giver." declared Harry "I am Henry Cyrodiil, Viscount of Sancre Tor and Imperial Regent of Skyrim, the last one being an office shared with General Tullius."

Harry handed the letter to the Jarl, who quickly read it.

"I see…"she said before returning the letter to Harry. "May I ask what is your purpose here in Riften?"

"As the letter mentioned, I am here to seek out any dissidents and traitors to the Empire." Explained Harry "Do not confuse me for one of the Thalmor agents who seek out worshippers of Talos... or Ysmir. I'm not sure what you call him. Religious disputes are the least of my concerns right now."

"You are aware that this civil war was caused by religious disputes, right?" questioned the Jarl.

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Even the noblest of causes can degenerate into selfish desires for power," he said. "What I see, is the violation of Imperial law. Murder and sedition, to be precise. I'll be honest with you, Jarl Law-Giver. I have no sympathy or commitment towards Talos or Tiber Septim. I did not grow worshipping him, or anything of the sort. And things from my perspective, an outsider in fact, can be quite different from yours."

Harry noticed that for at least a second the Jarl gaped, before quickly resuming her previous posture.

"But I digress," he continded. "Now, before I can begin my work, I need to know something. Do you perhaps know where Maven Black-Briar is?

The sudden out-of-topic question confused the Jarl.

"I'm sorry, Maven Black-Briar?"

"Yes, Maven Black-Briar." repeated Harry, being very aware of the strangeness of the question. "Can you tell me where she is?"

"Maven usually is at the Bee and Barb." said the Jarl still confused "But why-?"

"I need to speak with her." said Harry "I haven't seen her since her interview for the Black Horse Courier back in the Imperial City. I shall speak with you later Jarl Law-Giver. Have a good day."

As much as he did in Solitude, Harry left normally but as quickly as he could, and as he left Mistveil Keep, he headed towards the inn, wanting to see his old friend.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 11 – Black-Briar**_

 **Riften, The Rift, Skyrim**

Harry entered the Bee and Barb, casually observing who exactly was inside the inn. He smelled the air, the scent of food and drink being the inn's most predominant feature, something which was apparently a trait of Skyrim's inns. There was a man shouting some nonsense about Mara, while the inn's bartender told him to be quiet. From the way he was dressed, Harry presumed that the man was possibly a priest. He kept looking around for a while before spotting the Black-Briar matriarch, sitting on a table next to a wall and alone.

Harry approached it, making sure that Maven saw him before reaching her. He became slightly amused when he saw her usual stern expression shift to a surprised one, only to immediately return to its normal state.

"Reman Cyrodiil, what in Oblivion are you doing here?" demanded the woman.

It was a rather common thing for Maven to refer to him as Reman instead of Henry, although Harry had no idea why she did so, and Maven kept her reasons to herself. However, she was also one of the few people which did not refer to him as the Viscount, something which Harry found to be a relief considering that almost everyone who knew him commonly referred to him by that name. Sure, it was nice for the people to recognize his status and beyond that to refer to him, not as a viscount, but as the Viscount, but it could become somewhat annoying sometimes.

"Well…" drawled Harry as he sat on a chair in front of Maven "Let's just say that the Emperor wants to put me to the test, and has placed me in charge of this province alongside General Tullius."

"Is that so?" she asked "Then let us hope that you do the job right."

Harry gave a rather faint but clear grin.

"Oh, don't I always Maven?" he asked, his tone a mixture of playfulness and seriousness "It's just like being back in Sancre Tor, except bigger, far more snowy, and with an unhealthy aversion towards magic. Still, I don't know how you Nords survive in this weather. It must be horrible in winter."

"Riften is not as cold as the rest of Skyrim." she said, drinking a bit of her own mead "And if you have the Septims, then the cold will be just a minor concern. Now, what are you doing here in Riften? Aren't you supposed to be up there on Solitude, having breakfast with the little widow?"

Harry snorted at the question, realizing that in a normal situation that would have been possibly true.

"Not really. I am here to oversee Law-Giver's loyalty to the Empire." he said in a low tone "I was informed that the woman may have a few…rebel tendencies. If she does have them, than I have to fix it before this hold falls into the hands of Ulfric and his…what are they called? Sons of Skyrim?"

"Yes. Just make sure that my business stays intact Reman." demanded Maven, before adopting a low tone as well, almost whispering "Although, since this is also part of my…interest, then I believe that you will be pleased to know that the rumours concerning Law-Giver are rather true."

"Really?" asked Harry, rather interested "Well, in any case, I don't think that this is the appropriate place to have this discussion. Too many people, and I wouldn't be surprised if one of them was an Ulfric supporter."

"Quite so, there is always that possibility." Agreed Maven "Should we continue this in the manor?"

"Manor? I've always wondered what the home of the great Maven Black-Briar looked like." said Harry without any sarcasm.

"Then let us make this quick. This idle chit-chat won't get us there." she said "I have important things to do, and I am sure you do as well."

"Let us move then."

* * *

Once inside the Black-Briar Manor, both Harry and Maven sat at the table, the Black-Briar matriarch pouring mead into two silver mugs. Giving one to Harry, she sat down in front of him. The young battlemage drank a bit, before being the first to talk.

"Now, what was that about the rumours and the Jarl?" asked Harry.

"I think you will be pleased to know that the Jarl secretly ships weapons and supplies from Riften to Windhelm." Said Maven "Unfortunately for you, there is no solid evidence of it. Most of what I know comes from the steward."

"The steward?" asked Harry.

"I have an arrangement with Anuriel. Nothing very important." claimed Maven "Regardless, I don't think it is possible for you to remove that information from her."

Harry chuckled, and opened his bag, using his wand to summon a small phial with a near-transparent liquid inside. He showed it to Maven, who took it to see it more closely.

"And what is this?" she asked.

"A powerful truth serum." he said "Back home it was called Veritaserum, and a few drops are enough to have the Emperor himself spilling all of his secrets."

Maven became even more interested with the potion, looking at it rather greedily.

"However, if applied normally, then the person who consumes it will enter a trance of sorts, temporary of course." he said "But if this lovely thing is applied in a different way, such as in food or drink, then the trance effects will be nullified. The perfect way to have the Jarl to spill out all her little secrets without attracting too much attention."

"How much would you charge for this?" asked Maven.

"Well, despite having on my possession a rather moderate quantity of ingredients, and the fact that this potion takes at least a month to brew…"

"A month!?" interrupted Maven.

"Yes, a month. Regardless, I have a good enough stock of the serum, but at the moment I have no intention to…well, create a business of selling this thing." affirmed Harry "But, I may make an exception for you Maven. Depending on the quantity, of course."

"How much, then?"

Harry was silent for a while, thinking on the price that he could attribute to the Veritaserum.

"Two hundred Septims for a normal sized bottle." he declared "Three drops being enough for it to take effect."

"I'll take one for now." she said, giving Harry the Septims.

Harry summoned a bottle of Veritaserum, giving to Maven, only to collect the coins and placing them on his money bag.

"Pleasure doing business with you." said Harry "Now I just need to find a way to place this on the Jarl's food or drink. If everything goes correctly, make sure that you don't go to bed early."

Maven who was still observing the bottle and the liquid inside, did not even look at Harry when he spoke.

"And why is that?" she asked.

"Well, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

"You know very well that I don't like surprises Reman." declared the Black-Briar matriarch.

Harry chuckled at the comment, being aware of Maven's distaste for surprises.

"Oh, believe me, this is one you will certainly enjoy."

* * *

It was almost dinner time, and Harry had everything carefully prepared. He had taken the time to spike Jarl Laila's personal mead, which for some reason was only drank by the woman. Harry came to learn that the woman was an appreciator of Cyrodilic Brandy, much like himself. In his opinion, it was rather a shame for her to be a rebel sympathizer, but if what Maven said was true, then the problem would have to be solved. He had also made sure to order the legionnaires in Riften to be in several key locations, as he did not want for any interference in his plan.

The fact that he had been invited to dine with the Jarl was also a plus, as he could simply ask the Jarl about the rumours. It was perfect, and if she revealed her true allegiance, then he would be able to remove her with just cause. He wanted to keep things on the legal side, at least for now.

Eventually, night fell on Riften, and inside Mistveil Keep, its inhabitants and visitors were ready to eat, waiting only for the food to arrive. Harry noticed the faint nervousness on the Jarl and restless behaviour on one of the Jarl's sons, while the other seemed to be more annoyed than anything else. The court wizard was clearly with her mind somewhere else, and the steward was possibly the only one with a normal behaviour amongst them all. When the food arrived, Harry could almost feel a collective relief coming from them all. As they began to eat, Harry made sure to glance sometimes at the Jarl, allowing her to eat and drink for a while, wanting to make sure that she became under the effect of the potion.

As soon as he emptied his mug, Harry turned towards the woman, who was eating a piece of bread, those on the table not noticing the glint on Harry's eyes.

"Tell me, Jarl Laila, what's your opinion on the rumours concerning you?" he asked in a casual tone.

The woman looked at him confused.

"What rumours?"

"Concerning your supposed connection to the rebels. I heard rumours that you secretly assist the rebel efforts." clarified Harry "Is there any base of truth in them?"

"I don't know who is spreading such rumours, but be assured that they are true." said Laila, not truly aware of what she had just said, despite those on the table looking at her in horror "I do support Ulfric's cause against the Empire."

No one had the chance to react, as a green flash came out of nowhere. Suddenly, all those inside the hall except Harry and the legionnaires were fully paralysed.

"Thank you Laila Law-Giver, for that was exactly what I wanted to hear." said Harry before turning to the legionnaires "Tie them up, quickly."

He had made sure to enchant the legionnaires' greaves with a Resist Paralysis enchantment, knowing that they too would be affected by the mass paralysis spell. Harry watched silently as the Imperial soldiers tied up those who had been paralysed, also placing their hands in shackles. Harry dispelled the magic he had used, allowing the paralyzed ones to "move" again. And he noticed that they were all glaring daggers at him, except the court wizard who seemed to be more confused than anything else. She was most likely not part of Law-Giver's scheme.

"What in Oblivion did you do to me?" nearly growled Laila.

"A small dose of a powerful truth serum." said Harry, showing her the half-empty phial "Amazing what three drops in your mead can do, isn't it?"

Harry placed the phial back in his back, and headed towards one of the legionnaires, before whispering at his ear.

"Go and tell Maven Black-Briar to come here." whispered the battlemage "Tell her that I sent you."

"Yes sir." said the soldier before heading out.

Harry turned towards the bound Jarl, disappointment being the only expression on his face.

"Was is worth it?" he asked "Your betrayal of the Empire?"

"I did the right thing." claimed Laila Law-Giver "At least I still have my honour."

Harry sighed. "While I do recognize the fact that the rebellion fight for what they believe, and that itself is an admirable trait, I also recognize the fact that without the Empire, Skyrim would be doomed." he declared. "In the unlikely event that this province became independent, and you restored the worship of Talos, or Ysmir, or whatever you call him, then how exactly would you survive without the supplies from Cyrodiil? I'm sure that you, someone who has lived on Skyrim for years, knows exactly how the climate is here during the cold seasons. Eventually the lack of food would lead to mass starvation."

"We could trade!" retorted the Jarl.

"With who? Cyrodiil, High Rock and Morrowind are part of the Empire, and we would certainly close all trade routes with Skyrim. The Aldmeri Dominion is a given, considering your…differences, and Hammerfell's resources are enough for them, and the only trade made is with Cyrodiil and High Rock." affirmed Harry "And seceding from the Empire, would give the Thalmor a clear reason to attack you, and we would do nothing to help. I would ask again if it is worth it to place this entire province in jeopardy because of a dead emperor and a man who wants to be the High King, but you seem to have made your choice."

Harry turned towards one of the soldiers, giving him orders to send the Jarl and her family to Sancre Tor, where they would be placed under house arrest. He had no intention of allowing the woman to run to Ulfric, causing him to attack Riften. He made sure to order the court wizard and the steward to remain behind, as he was sure that they were not part of the Jarl's scheme.

A while after the Jarl and her family had been taken from Mistveil Keep, Maven entered the keep, escorted by the soldier and a man who was apparently her bodyguard.

"I just saw Jarl Law-Giver being escorted out of town by a group of legionnaires." She said "May I know what is going on?"

Harry smiled, the glint on his eyes being very visible now.

"Indeed you can." he said "As of now, you are the new Jarl of the Rift. Congratulations, Jarl Black-Briar!"

Harry did not know if the woman was expecting it, be her first reaction was not surprise, but a raised eyebrow, followed by evident pleasure. She headed towards the throne, and sat down, taking hold of her new position.

"Jarl Black-Briar…I do like the sound of that."


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language / Dragon Speech"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 12 – Black Wings**_

 **Riften, The Rift, Skyrim**

Placing Maven as the Jarl of the Rift was something he had planned in the event of the former Jarl being a traitor, which had proven to be true. It was a way of keeping Maven as an ally, and to build even stronger…"fortifications" in their relations. He and Maven were not friends in the old "drinking buddy" sense, but they were two people who despite the age gap, shared rather similar mindsets, and could understand the motivations of the other.

Of course, he also had his own plans for the Rift which could only be put in motion by having Maven as Jarl.

"So, Jarl Black-Briar, as the new ruler of this place, make sure to set up your government quickly," suggested Harry. "We don't want the guards to suddenly have sympathies with your predecessor, and neither do we want the people rioting. I am sure you know how the common populace is easily manipulated by spies and characters of the sort."

"Don't worry about any rioting, Reman. I have it under control," stated Maven. "And if there are any disturbances in Riften's guard, then there will be public executions."

"Just make sure that the transition is smooth," said Harry. "I will possibly remain here for a few days, making sure that everything goes as planned. I will send a letter to General Tullius, so that he can send a legate from the Legion to Riften, and for him to bring a large number of troops. We are at Ulfric's doorstep, and when we march on Windhelm, I am sure that this will be the starting point."

"Do so." said Maven "I admit I don't find myself confident with just the city guard and mercenaries are scarce. Not to mention that their payment would come out of my pocket. Also…"

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"Have you thought about my proposal, back in the Imperial City?"

Harry really hoped she would not bring that topic just yet. Considering the state of things, it was a bit inconvenient.

"It's too early. I need more time to think about it." he said "It's not a decision I can take lightly, I'm sure you recognize that."

"Yes…" drawled Maven. "But the soon I have an answer the better."

"You will have your answer...eventually."

* * *

Harry spent a week in Riften, overseeing Maven's work as the new Jarl, and how exactly the transition of power was occurring. He also made sure to observe how exactly the Jarls of Skyrim worked, and how exactly they were compared to the titled nobility in Cyrodiil and High Rock. Morrowind and Skyrim had been the only provinces of the Empire which he had never visited before, having been kept in regions where the culture was…similar. He had visited Hammerfell, but only so that he could travel to High Rock, and he had not the pleasure of visiting the country, considering that it was no longer part of the Empire.

He had learned that there were not many differences, despite the existence of other structures of such. He had to delve onto his books regarding Skyrim when Maven had made him a Thane of the Rift, and although he knew that on Earth there was a title with the same name and another with a rather similar name, he was not certain if the definition was the same. And apparently, in Skyrim, the title of Thane was simultaneously an honorific title and a title of nobility, which granted him certain privileges and prestige.

Regardless, it was nice to have something else to attach to his current style, which had been until now " _His Illustrious Highness_ , _Reman Cyrodiil, Imperial Regent of Skyrim, Viscount of Sancre Tor"._ As a mediatized noble, and the fact that he was of royal descent, he had not only the right to bear the Reman-Cyrodilic "coat of arms", if he could call it that considering that the concept of coat of arms and heraldry only developed properly in Tamriel shortly after the fall of the Akaviri Potentate, but he also had the right to use certain forms of address concerning himself, as decided by the Emperor and the Elder Council. But of all those he could use, he preferred to be addressed as "Illustrious Highness".

But other than receiving the title of Thane, Harry's presence of Riften was not as exciting as he had assumed, and as the week reached its end, the young Breton made his way back to Solitude, where General Tullius was most likely expecting him.

* * *

 **Solitude, Haafingar, Skyrim**

It was shortly past midday, and Harry entered Castle Dour, finding it strangely lacking in people. Inside there were only a few of the normal guards, but in the main chamber was only Legate Rikke.

"Legate." said Harry, saluting her.

Rikke returned the salute, greeting Harry as well.

"Where is the general?" asked Harry "In fact, where is everyone?"

"Imperial Intelligence has delivered to the General information regarding the movements of Ulfric Stormcloak," said Rikke. "During your time in Riften, the General and some of the available Legates, including myself, have conjured a plan that will, hopefully, lead to the capture of Ulfric."

That was… unexpected. If General Tullius did succeed on his mission, then the war would end soon enough, and perhaps the Emperor would finally give him the answer he had wanted for many years. But still, a plan like this would have to be done with precise execution, and the intelligence would have to be correct.

"Are you sure this was not some sort of carefully prepared ambush against us? As a way of getting rid of our best troops and members of the Legion?" asked Harry. "There is always that possibility."

"We checked everything." confirmed Rikke "If the General is successful, then the Stormcloaks will suffer a great blow."

"Stormcloaks?" asked Harry amused "That's what we're calling them now?"

Rikke simply shrugged, not exactly concerned with the name attributed to the rebels.

"And where exactly is this ambush supposed to take place?" asked Harry "And when did the General leave?"

Rikke went towards the map on the table and Harry followed her. She pointed at a location near the border to Cyrodiil.

"Ulfric is supposed to be here, at Darkwater Crossing," said Rikke before pointing to another section of the map "If we succeed, upon his capture, Ulfric will be brought to this town, Helgen. He was supposed to be taken to the Imperial City for execution, but General Tullius has deemed it too dangerous."

Harry hummed, thinking about whether he should go to Helgen or not.

"Oh, one thing," he said, breaking from his thoughts. "I don't know if you received my letter already, but I deposed Laila Law-Giver as the Jarl of the Rift."

"The rumours were true, then?" asked Rikke, curious.

"Indeed, they were." affirmed Harry "I have installed Maven Black-Briar as the new Jarl."

"The owner of the Black-Briar Meadery as the Jarl?" questioned Rikke.

Harry shrugged.

"She was the best choice." he said "I know that she can make Riften profitable in the next years. It's in her nature to be successful."

Harry returned to his previous thoughts, wondering if he should go or not. After a few seconds of internal debate, the young regent finally decided.

"I'm going to Helgen. I want to be there for this." he declared "I just hope that General Tullius succeeds and ends this civil war quickly."

"We share the same desire, Regent Cyrodiil," stated Rikke. "But even if Ulfric dies, his supporters will continue to fight against the Empire."

"I know Legate.," agreed Harry, sighing. "I know…"

* * *

 **Helgen, Falkreath Hold, Skyrim**

Harry travelled the skies of Skyrim looking around the area of Falkreath for a walled town, eventually finding one close to the mountains. He landed, and entered the village, finding it rather small, but quickly realizing that there were many soldiers of the Empire around, alongside a few Imperial Battlemages, whom Harry was an absolute fan of. He knew that a single Imperial Battlemage could turn Dumbledore to ashes in a matter of seconds, even though he had nothing against the old man, excluding his obsession with muggle candies.

"Cyrodiil!"

Harry turned around, only to find General Tullius on a horse, entering the town with a small group of soldiers on horses as well. The young Breton raised an eyebrow in surprise and curiosity. Why was the General already in Helgen?

"Already here General?" he asked "Did you succeed in capturing Ulfric."

"Not just Ulfric, but some of his best soldiers." He exclaimed. The man was clearly happy with the event, but also rather anxious. "They are on their way to here…and so are the Thalmor."

"Erm… what do the Thalmor have to do with this?" asked Harry.

"They claim that they want to make sure that Ulfric is executed," said Tullius, who despite not trusting them a bit, could not help but feel as if those were their intentions.

It took half an hour, but soon enough the Thalmor representatives arrived at Helgen. Harry recognized the leader, Elenwen, the First Emissary of the Thalmor in Skyrim, previously an ambassador in Cyrodiil. HE had once attended one of her parties, and if not for the snob attitude of the woman and the other Thalmor, not to mention their xenophobia, then he would consider said parties perfect. And he could not deny that the event was rather pleasant.

"General Tullius, has the capture of Ulfric Stormcloak been successful?" she asked, as she approached both Harry and Tullius.

"It has." said Tullius in a neutral tone, keeping his dislike for the woman contained.

"Then I assume that he will arrive soon." She said.

"Don't worry, Emissary Elenwen." said Harry diplomatically "Be assured that Ulfric Stormcloak shall reach Helgen, and if nothing wrong happens, then he will die in Helgen as well."

Elenwen, being more focused on Tullius, had not recognized the other person next to the older human. But she now remembered who he was.

"Henry Cyrodiil, am I correct? The Viscount of Sancre Tor?" she asked "You were a guest at one of my parties in Cyrodiil, if I am not mistaken."

"Indeed, First Emissary." he said "I must…"

Harry was unable to finish his sentence, as another man's voice was heard on top of his own.

"General Tullius, sir." Shouted the soldier "The headsman is waiting!"

Tullius nearly sighed with relief.

"Good, let's put an end to this." declared the Imperial.

"I'm afraid that we cannot remain here," stated Elenwen. "We have to return to the Embassy."

The Thalmor departed the village, while Harry and Tullius headed towards the courtyard of one of the military towers, where the execution would take place. Harry looked at the carriages, and noticed that there were few of them.

"How exactly did you capture Ulfric?" he asked.

"He surrendered as soon as we ambushed him." revealed Tullius "We even had to make sure that it was not a trap, and as soon as we were sure…well, we simply captured them."

Harry simply nodded, and looked at the carriages, hoping to discover the one with Ulfric Stormcloak. He watched as the prisoners came out of the carriages, and only then he was able to notice who Ulfric was supposed to be, considering that the man had a gag around his mouth and was wearing a long fur-trimmed coat, while the rest of his followers were wearing either blue versions of the common city guard uniform, or rudimentary amours made of fur and animal bones. There was also a rather filthy man with them as well, but Harry doubted that he was one of the Stormcloaks.

And as he watched a female captain and a normal soldier check the lists with the names of the prisoners, Harry could not help but feel uneasy. It was similar to the sensation he had outside Fort Reman on Earth, but different, as this time it was almost as if something was warning him of danger. But what?

Harry was so lost on these thoughts that he only snapped when the priest began to say the rites, not even hearing Tullius's speech and the strange sound in the distance.

"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved…"

However, the woman was rudely interrupted by one of the Stormcloaks, who said something about Talos and went towards the block. Harry watched, as his head was placed against the stone, but also heard the last words that man would say.

"My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?"

That took Harry to another series of thoughts, oblivious to the Stormcloak's decapitation. He wondered if his ancestors approved of his actions. Was he honouring them? There was something, like a faint voice in the distance which responded positively, although Harry continued to wonder about it. He returned to "reality" just in time to see the body of the decapitated Stormcloak being thrown to the side by two Imperial soldiers.

Suddenly, another roar-like sound was heard, Harry becoming aware of it for the first time.

"There is it again," said the soldier from the lists. "Did you hear that?"

"I said, next prisoner," insisted the captain.

Harry watched as a soldier brought another Stormcloak towards the block, but as the man's head was brought down, Harry could only watch as a dark shape came from over the mountain, at high speed towards them.

"What is Oblivion is that?" shouted Tullius.

And somehow, in his mind, Harry knew.

"Dragon…" he whispered, still in shock due to the sudden appearance of the beast, many others in the same state.

One of the Stormcloaks seemed to realize what it was as well, and Harry heard her voice shouting.

"Dragon!"

The beast landed on the tower next to them, its wings large enough to cover the entire tower, and the impact of its landing causing the ground to shake. The dragon was almost pitch black in colour, many spikes on his body, and two glowing red orbs, indicating to Harry that those were its eyes. But the problem there, was the fact that said eyes were staring at him, and at that moment, Harry felt like prey, and it was something that he usually did not felt. And he could only take a step back when he saw the draconic figure open its mouth.

" **Fus Ro Dah!"**


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language / Dragon Speech"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 13 – Escape from Helgen**_

 **Helgen, Falkreath Hold, Skyrim**

Harry liked to think that he was a rather agile person, but it seemed that he had not been agile enough to fully avoid whatever the damned beast had "thrown" at him. Whatever force impacted onto him, threw him towards the middle of the courtyard, destroying the wall close to him. Harry's vision became blurred, and it was almost as if sound had escaped from his ears. He could hear shouts and screams, not knowing where they came from, and not interested in doing so. He only wanted to survive this…dragon or whatever the damned thing was supposed to be. He heard another roaring sound coming from above, almost like thunder, and he felt the wind gaining strength.

Harry rose to his feet, very unbalanced, and used a powerful spell to heal himself, using a good amount of magicka in the process. He felt the spell taking effect, his vision quickly returning to normal, and returning to a normal stance. He quickly examined his surroundings, and he was able to spot Ulfric Stormcloak and some of his followers taking refuge inside one of the towers. Unfortunately, he could not waste any time trying to deal with the outlaws, and so Harry went towards the area where General Tullius was, alongside the other Imperial soldiers who were trying to attack the dragon. Out of them all, the only ones who had an actual amount of success were the battlemages of the Shadow Legion, who were fully coordinated in their attacks against the dragon.

Taking out his staff, Harry joined the soldiers in their defence against the beast, striking at it with many bolts of lightning, and with the Wizard's Fury spell, which was conjured from his free hand. He noticed how the clouds were creating a dark vortex on the sky, small meteors occasionally falling down and causing severe damage to the buildings of Helgen. The dragon flew in circles, and Harry watched as it went towards the same tower where Stormcloak had taken refuge. The dragon simply smacked the tower with its head, removing part of the wall. Despite being somewhat far away, Harry somehow heard a voice, much like before.

" **Yol…Tor Shul!"**

In the chaos, Harry's mind did not register the fact that the dragon had "spoke", instead watching as a torrent of flames came from it's mouth, and into the tower. The beast flew away from the tower, and began to fly around Helgen, much like before.

" **Zu'u Alduin, zok sahrot do naan ko Lein."**

It was at this sentence that Harry finally realized that the dragon was speaking, and there was something inside him that sparked as the dragon spoke. It was a sensation of familiarity, almost as if he was supposed to understand what the dragon had said.

Nevertheless, the young Breton continued his assault against the dragon, being aware that sooner or later his magicka reserves would be exhausted, and he would have to drink a few potions to restore them. Not to mention that his staff was becoming weaker, the bolts of lightning becoming considerably shorter and less expansive. But their efforts were not in vain, as the forces of the Imperial Legion did succeed in causing minor damage to the dragon, confusing him for a while. Harry had no doubt that the battlemages had been the ones who had given them this opportunity.

"Cyrodiil!"

Harry turned around, finding General Tullius and a several other soldiers a few meters away.

"Into the keep!" shouted Tullius "We're leaving now!"

Harry frantically looked around, realizing that there were more dead people than there should have been, and that this minor advantage they had was perhaps only temporary. He quickly turned to the General and nodded rapidly, before running towards the General, who was now also heading towards the interior of the keep. The Battlemages were also following them, keeping their eyes on the sky, but now more focused on making it to the keep alive.

Tullius, Harry, and the soldiers made it alive into the keep, the battlemages closing the doors behind them. They did not spoke a word, advancing into the depths of the keep, until they finally reached a chamber where they could be "safe".

"What in Oblivion was that thing?" asked Tullius to no one in particular.

"A dragon, perhaps?" suggested Harry, thinking that it was the most likely possibility "Whatever it was, it destroyed the whole town and killed many of our soldiers, alongside the civilians. The Stormcloak soldiers are also dead, and if we are lucky then Ulfric was killed by that thing up there."

"Then that would be the second good thing that happens to us today." stated Tullius, who was clearly unnerved by the whole situation. Harry had to admit that he was also shaken by the event, but he had his own fair share of life-threatening situations back on Earth. And he did not miss them at all.

"Where do we go from now?" asked Harry "I mean…is there any other exit?"

"There is a cave system near the torture chamber." said one of the soldiers "But there is a section infested with spiders."

"Then we may as well get rid of this infestation." declared Tullius "No damn spider is getting in the way of the Legion."

Harry took this opportunity to drink a few potions, restoring his magicka and reducing his tiredness. Placing the staff on his back, Harry took out Dawnbreaker, its hilt shining brightly in the darkened room, making some soldiers step away from him, the light being somewhat bright for their eyes. It did not affect Harry, as Meridia's champion had grown used to the artefact and its curious features. Instead, Harry liked to use it to freak out people, especially rogue mages, who panicked upon seeing the weapon.

Harry and Tullius leaded the soldiers into the depths of the keep, passing by the torture chamber, where an old man and someone far younger were.

"General Tullius, sir." said the man, in a voice which Harry found rather irritating "What brings you to my…"

"There's no time to talk!" interrupted Tullius "You and your…assistant, come with us!"

"What?" said the man confused.

"A dragon is attacking Helgen." stated Harry "So unless you want to die in here, then I suggest that you come with us."

"Don't say such nonsense boy!" sneered the old man "There's no such thing as dragons."

"Boy!? Who in Oblivion do you think you are to refer to me as 'boy'!?" snarled Harry "I'll have you know that I am the Imperial Regent of this province, so show some respect!"

The man backed down, and when he saw that the General had not spoken against the one in front of him, he realized that the boy was not playing games with him. Gulping, he went as far as possible from Harry, not desiring to be close to the young man.

"Let's go." said Harry, taking a deep breath "We're wasting our time here."

The group continued on their way to the cavern system, eventually reaching what seemed to be a ruined section of the keep, which in turn led into the cavern system. Unfortunately, as they passed through a wooden bridge, a tremor caused by the dragon led to a few boulders falling down on the bridge crushing a few of the soldiers. Harry and Tullius survived, but the party was now severely reduced.

"Where are those damned spiders…" muttered one of the soldiers.

Harry both wanted and did not want to know where the things were, being reminded of his few encounters with the Cyrodilic variant of the arachnid menace. There had been campaigns made to exterminate the Cyrodilic spiders during the Third Era and the first decades of the Fourth Era, and despite having a general success, there were still a few nests which had not been uncovered, and he had the "fortunate experience" of finding.

The survivors entered a small cave, following a stream of water, before finding themselves on a dead end. Locating another path, the group moved forwards, entering a large chamber filled with spider-webs, and the spiders as well. Despite these arachnids not being as nerve wracking as their Cyrodiil counterparts, Harry's strategy against them did not change, consisting of keeping away from the abominations and killing them with overpowered blasts of fire and electricity.

Harry and the battlemages were the only ones who fought against the spiders, the battle ending with the utter massacre of the spiders. However, the usage of the fire spells led to the burning of the webs and the egg sacks, which in turn made the soldiers run from the chamber into another, not wanting to die in the fire caused by the magic users.

The next chamber was much larger, and the only creature inside was a sleeping bear. The soldiers attempted to sneak past it, but the large commotion of people awoke the animal, who did not take kindly to have intruders on its territory. However, Harry quickly killed the bear with a single bolt of lightning, reducing the animal to ashes, and giving safe passage to the survivors of the dragon attack.

Harry could only feel relief when they all left the cavern, and re-entered the open wilderness of Skyrim. But he then looked up, and watched as the dragon from before flew above them, seemingly not noticing that they were there.

"Take cover!" hissed Harry, motioning the soldiers to hide in the cavern's entrance.

The dragon roared as it flew over a mountain in the distance, Harry never taking his eyes away from it. Harry turned around, commanding the men to leave the cavern, and they quickly did so. Tullius began to organize the soldiers, the interior of the keep and the cavern not allowing for a proper organization of the legionnaires. As soon as his task was done Tullius turned to Harry, the older man having returned to his normal behaviour.

"Viscount Cyrodiil, we are returning to Solitude." he informed "What is your plan of action?"

Harry glanced at the mountain which the black dragon had flew over.

"If I'm not mistaken, the city of Whiterun is over that mountain." said Harry "I will go there and warn the Jarl about this new development. If I play my cards right, then he may cease to be neutral and ally with us."

Tullius nodded.

"May the Eight guide you," said the General before departing.

"May they guide you as well, General."


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language / Dragon Speech"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 14 – Remains of the Worm**_

 **Skyrim**

Harry had walked for a while, taking the time to watch the ground scenery of Skyrim, finding it pleasing despite the overabundance of rocks, and the rather disappointing lack of the colour green. Still, it was something that he was already expecting. But not long before reaching a small area with a few pine trees, Harry heard a voice calling for him.

"Regent Cyrodiil!" shouted a male voice, with a clear Nord accent.

Harry turned around, and recognized the owner of the voice, a Nord soldier which had been at Helgen. More specifically, the soldier which had the list with the names of the prisoners. Wondering what exactly the man was doing here, Harry raised his eyebrow in a near automatic way. The soldier approached him, running at a moderate pace, succeeding in catching up to him. The soldier saluted him, and Harry repeated the gesture.

"May I ask why you are not with the rest of the legionnaires, soldier?"

"General Tullius sent me, sir," he explained. "He thought that you might need a guide in this area of Skyrim, since you are not from the province and have spent little time here."

Harry had to agree with the man and with Tullius. Despite knowing that Whiterun was behind the mountain, considering that he had flown over it, he had not travelled much in Skyrim by foot.

"Your name soldier?" he asked.

"Hadvar, sir," replied the man, who was clearly just a few years older than him "I'm from a town close to here, Riverwood. It's on the way to Whiterun."

"Really? That might be a small advantage to me…" mused Harry, who was needing to restock his bag with certain items "Are there any shops there?"

"Yes," replied Hadvar. "You have a general store, the blacksmith, who is my uncle, and the inn."

"Well…off we go then." said Harry in a rather cheery way.

* * *

The two walked for a while in silence, Harry taking the time to continue his observation of the landscape, occasionally finding a fox who proceeded to run away from him. Eventually, the two reached a small cliff, and Harry noticed the snow-covered ruins near the top of the mountain. From the study he had made regarding the Nords, Harry assumed that it was possibly one of their ancient tomb structures, from the time before the rise of his ancestor.

"What are those ruins over there?" asked Harry, pointing towards them.

Hadvar looked at where Harry was pointing, and quickly answered.

"That's Bleak Falls Barrow," said Hadvar. "The only thing I know about it is that it is supposed to be filled with Draugr."

"Draugr? Aren't those undead?"

Hadvar nodded, and Harry began to eye the ruined complex with suspicion. The two continued to walk for a while, eventually reaching a road next to river. From there, Harry and Hadvar continued to walk forward, and some minutes later, the two reached the small village of Riverwood.

* * *

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

As Harry looked around, he realized that Riverwood was a rather small town, not having any kind of interesting landmark. That is, if one did not count Bleak Falls as a landmark of Riverwood. As he followed Hadvar down the street, he saw as a woman shouted to a young man, which he assumed to be her son that she had seen a dragon. And as he dismissed her statement, Harry simply ignored the scene, continuing to follow Hadvar until the two reached one of the homes. On the outside were many instruments and a large forge, in which an old man was working.

"Uncle Alvor!"

The older man stopped what he was doing, and turned towards Hadvar with a look of surprise on his face.

"Hadvar? What are you doing here? I don't suppose that you are taking a small break to visit family, so what…" he trailed of when he saw that Hadvar's armour was covered in blood and that the soldier was also rather exhausted.

"Shor's bones, what happened to you?" he asked, before looking at Harry, noticing him for the first time, and realizing that Harry's armour had a few similarities with the armour used by the Imperial Legion "And who is he?"

"Henry Cyrodiil." said Harry introducing himself "Viscount of Sancre Tor and Imperial Regent of Skyrim, alongside General Tullius. The blood on his armour is probably from Stormcloaks."

Alvor's eyes widened, mostly due to him having heard stories about the Viscount of Sancre Tor's exploits in Cyrodiil.

"We should go inside Uncle." suggested Hadvar in a hushed tone "This conversation is rather private."

"Fine! Come inside then." said the old man resigned, but wanting to know all the details "Sigrid will get you two something to eat and you can tell me all about it."

Alvor motioned them to follow him, and the three entered the house.

"Sigrid!" he shouted "We have company!"

A woman came from the basement, and as her eyes fell on the visitors, she immediately became surprised and worried.

"Hadvar! We've been so worried about you!" she said while placing two more chairs near the table "Sit down you two, and I'll get you something to eat."

As she went down the stairs, Alvor, Hadvar and Harry sat around the table.

"Now then, what's the reason you two are in that state?" asked the blacksmith "And what's that talk of Stormcloaks?"

"I was assigned to General Tullius's guard, and we managed to ambush and capture Ulfric Stormcloak. But when we stopped at Helgen to execute him, the town was attacked."

"By what?" questioned Alvor. "Bandits?"

"Bandits wouldn't be able to do this," said Harry. "It was a creature. Most likely a dragon or something similar."

"A dragon?" asked Alvor in disbelief. "That… that's ridiculous. You two have not been drinking, have you?"

"A few potions, half bottle of Black-Briar Mead…" drawled Harry. "But if you are trying to suggest we are drunk, then I can assure you we are not."

"Husband, let them tell their story," said Sigrid who had returned with the food.

"There's not much to tell. The dragon simply arrived and destroyed the entire town," explained Hadvar. "Many soldiers in the legion managed to survive, alongside the General and the Viscount, but all the civilians died in the chaos."

"What about Ulfric?" asked Alvor.

"We don't know." admitted Harry "Last I saw him he was entering one of the towers in Helgen. He may or may not be dead, so I can't affirm his fate."

"But why are you two here?" asked Alvor "Shouldn't you be on the way to Solitude?"

"I'm going to Whiterun, to see if I can warn its Jarl about the current events." said Harry. "And other things, but those are supposed to be secondary effects. By the way, haven't you seen anything strange around these parts recently?"

Harry wanted to know if the blacksmith was aware of any Stormcloak movement in the area, so that he could give said information to Tullius. That is, if he didn't had it yet.

"Hum…well, there was the commotion with Lucan Valerius in his shop, something about a claw." Said Alvor "And there was also the bunch of unfriendly wizards in black robes which appeared a few days ago, and went to the ruins up there. Other than that, I don't think anything interesting happened. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Just wanting to make sure of something." said Harry.

But the mention of unfriendly wizards who appeared in Riverwood, and then travelled to Bleak Falls Barrow sparked Harry's interest. He knew from personal experience that unfriendly wizards in black robes who liked to dwell in ruins were usually necromancers or rogue conjurers. Either way, he would investigate it before heading to Whiterun. As a follower of Meridia, one of his primary obligations was the eradication of all necromancers and undead, wherever he found them, and if what he suspected was true, then Dawnbreaker would soon be red with the blood of the defilers.

"In any case, you have brought something to my attention that must be investigated." stated Harry, who got up from his chair and turned to Hadvar. "I'll go alone from now on Hadvar. Stay here or return to Solitude, the choice is yours."

"Very well, Viscount Cyrodiil." said Hadvar, who also got up to salute Harry before the young battlemage left the house.

Harry began to head outside of town, towards a bridge onto the other side of the small river. Looking up, the young Breton took a deep breath, and began to climb the mountain, determined to reach the ruins and discover what the wizards were doing up there.

* * *

 **Bleak Falls Barrow, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

As he reached the ruins, Harry had to cast a warmth charm with his wand at himself, the temperature up there being rather…cold. He was close to a large staircase, and he could see the exterior structure of the ruins up close. They were rather well preserved, but the fact that they were ancient was still stated through its architecture. As he got close, Harry began to see people near the entrance, but as he tried to sneak past them, Harry began to wonder where the mages were, and he soon realized that these bandits were not acting normally.

He was quickly reminded of his encounters with necromancers and their thralls in the past, and he recognized the signs of reanimated corpses when he saw one. He managed to spot the wounds in the undead bandits, and the colour of their eyes was proof enough of their current state. It was clear that the mages were necromancers, and they had left the bandits guarding the entrance to the ruins. Taking hold of Dawnbreaker, Harry got out of his hiding spot, and charged at the undead bandits, taking two by surprise. As the other bandits realized that there was a living person there which was not one of their masters, they charged as well to attack Harry. They young Breton plunged his sword into the chest of one, and he watched as Dawnbreaker released an explosion of power that incinerated all the undead near Harry, and he was soon the only person outside Bleak Falls Barrow who could stand up and walk.

He silently entered Bleak Falls, and the first thing he realized was that the Nord ruins smelled worse than the Ayleid ruins. The second thing was that on the distance, was a small campfire and two robed figures near it. He sneaked towards it hiding behind the large columns, and stayed there, hearing the conversation between the two necromancers.

"…supposed to return?" asked a male voice.

"The Wormmother said that we shall return to the temple in three days." replied a female voice "You'll have enough time to put your new abilities to the test."

"I don't like it," said the man. "Everyone knows that these ruins are the type of place where that damned 'knight of Merida' likes to go. Not to mention he's here in Skyrim."

Harry's head snapped upwards when he heard the mention of a "knight of Meridia". He supposed that that was a reference to him, considering the weapon he held.

"Be patient, for soon enough, the King shall rise once more." said the woman "Not even Meridia's precious follower will be able to stand against his power."

"Yes…quite so," said the man, now more pleased. "But still why does she have to stay a lot of time in that damned chamber? I doubt that the ancient Nords are the most useful people regarding anything related to powerful arcane magic, other than their old custom of shouting at things."

Harry looked at his free hand, and smirked as a small purple orb appeared on it. He quietly pointed his hand at the necromancers, and launched the orb towards them. He watched as the orb expanded, and as the necromancers panicked at the sight, only for their panic to increase as a golden armoured warrior appeared from the purple vortex, wielding a golden axe on its hand. Harry continued to watch from his hidden spot as the Auroran he summoned proceeded to bury its axe on the male necromancer's head, killing him instantly, before turning to the woman.

She quickly summoned an armoured skeleton which charged at the Auroran, and Harry quietly moved away from the column, silently approaching the remaining necromancer. He cleared his throat, making the woman turn around, and he quickly plunged Dawnbreaker into her heart, watching as the woman's eyes widened in surprise, before removing his sword from her chest, watching her body fall onto the ground. The skeleton vanished, as its anchor to the Mundus perished, leaving the summoned Auroran rather disappointed.

Harry went towards one of the bodies, and researched them, wanting to find any notes or journals which could give him a clue about who these necromancers were. He found a key in one of the corpses, and he began to look around the campfire for a chest. Finding one, Harry opened it, discovering a small pile of books on the corner, a group of Black Soul Gems next to them. He took the books out of the chest and placed them on the ground, allowing him to read their titles.

Amongst the books was the usual _"N'Gasta! Kvata! Kvakis!"_ , but also other unusual titles such as _"Necromancer's Moon"_ , _"Arkay the Enemy"_ , _"Worm Saga"_ , and the one which really peaked his interest, _"Mannimarco, King of Worms"_. As he opened the last book, a note fell from it, and Harry quickly grabbed it, intent on reading it.

* * *

 _To Worm Acolyte Blanche,_

 _it is imperative that at least you and another acolyte remain on guard near the entrance of Bleak Falls Barrow, even if our servants remain outside guarding it. Be reminded that the Wormmother expects full obedience, and we shall all be rewarded when the great King of Worms is fully returned to Nirn._

 _Anchorite Denegor_

* * *

Harry paled at the implications. These were not just ordinary necromancers, but members of the Order of the Black Worm intent on resurrecting Mannimarco. And from the conversation that the two acolytes had, then Bleak Falls Barrow was not their main base. But the words in the letter that confused him the most were when it was mentioned that the Worm Cultists would be rewarded when Mannimarco was "fully" returned to Nirn. That implied that Mannimarco was already on Tamriel, but not fully returned, and Harry was not very keen on standing by and watch the results of a returned King of Worms. And now, his only choice was to explore the ruins.

He had to find the so called "Wormmother".


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language / Dragon Speech"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 15 – The Order of the Black Worm**_

 **Bleak Falls Barrow, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

Intent on keeping himself hidden, Harry kept himself to the shadows, making sure to be on the watch for any traps that could have been placed there by the ancient Nords. He also did not want to attract the attention of any more Worm Cultists and their undead servants, at least at the moment, considering that he wanted to see if he could overhear any more conversations that would give him clues about the revived Order of the Black Worm and their plans regarding the King of Worms.

The corridors of the tomb were dark and damp, the stench of ancient corpses being very present in the air. It was something he recognized from his exploits in the Imperial Province, and a trait he had come to be expecting when entering ancient ruins which were used as tombs, both for the ancients who built them, and for the unprepared explorer. He walked for a while, the eerie silence of Bleak Falls being his only companion, and he soon came to find a small area which was illuminated.

The chamber was mostly filled with rubble, but it had been changed into a small operations chamber for the Worm Cultists. He could see from his hiding spot the corpses of the bandits, hanging from the ceiling, and the blood markings on the floor. There were also tables with severed body parts, such as arms and legs, which had seemingly been removed from the reanimated corpses which were guarding the room.

Harry could see that one of the zombies had a makeshift leg, made of wood, on the place where its former leg had been, but it only had a single arm, its hand wielding a short sword. The other reanimated bandits were not in a better state, their bodies having been mutilated by the Worm Cultists as well. It was a repulsive sight, and Harry did not want to know if the mutilation happened to them after or before their death. But knowing the usual mentality of rogue necromancers, it was possibly the latter.

Three of the cultists were sleeping, while the other two were keeping themselves to the books and their study of the corpses. Finding their current state as an advantage and as a way to try something, Harry took out his wand, intent on killing the necromancers first, as their deaths would cut the link with the reanimated corpses. He pointed it at one of the awakened necromancers, and with his voice as low as he could, Harry cast the spell.

"Diffindo."

The intent and power behind the spell were clear, as he had wanted it to provoke death on his adversary, and so the spell did its work, as it made contact with the neck of the Worm Cultist, who was turned to the side, allowing the spell to create a deep and long cut. The necromancer gasped, her trachea severed, alongside the carotid artery and the jugular vein, and with the other necromancer on the far end of the room, too focused on his work, the woman collapsed on the ground, unable to scream for help, and in a utter state of panic and terror as blood began to flow freely from her severed veins and arteries. In seconds, the necromancer fell into unconsciousness, blood continuing to leave through the wound on her neck.

The undead were unable to respond, as there was no clear threat for them to be on the lookout. And as soon as the woman ceased to live, three of the reanimated corpses fell, their anchor to the Mundus having perished. Harry sheathed his wand, and took out an ebony dagger, and silently walking past the undead which were still standing, he went towards the necromancer on the other side of the room. He saw that the man was clearly too much focused on his work, having blocked out whatever happened on the same room where he was. Taking the opportunity once again, Harry plunged his dagger on the man's head, and watched as he fell, a single grunt being the only noise that came from the man. And with his death, the remaining undead fell as well, leaving Harry alone in the room with the sleeping Worm Cultists.

The young Breton removed the dagger from the corpse's head, and placed it on his belt, before taking out his staff, and pointing it at the sleeping necromancers. The crystal on the top began to glow, as Harry charged up the magicka within it. It was soon released as a bolt of chain lighting which instantly killed all of the sleeping Worm Cultists. Harry began to research the room for anything of value, and he made sure to loot all the ingredients, money and books he could find. His library inside Sancre Tor basically consisted of books which he had collected during his travels across Cyrodiil and High Rock, and he had no intention of stopping his habit of collecting books. He was sure that Hermione Granger, one of his brother's closest friends would melt upon the sight of the books he had inside Sancre Tor, and so would Madam Pince.

Despite collecting a considerable amount of loot, Harry could not find anything related to the Worm Cult, and so he continued on his exploration of Bleak Falls Barrow, wondering when he would find the Wormmother.

* * *

Harry's exploration of the tomb lasted for many minutes, finding occasional groups of necromancers and their undead thralls in certain rooms, or the lone necromancer in random hallways. Despite surviving all encounters with some minor injuries, Harry began to wonder where exactly the Wormmother was, and how she would compare to those he had fought until now. He had to admit that some of the Worm Cultists he had fought were powerful, and one was agile enough that he had even driven him to the point of magicka exhaustion, but with the use of a few potions he had bee renewed, and was able to defeat the cultist.

He eventually reached the draugr, and he could not help but find them annoying. While the necromancers provided an actual challenge, the draugr were merely a nuisance to him, "waking up" in the most inconvenient moments. But the more he advanced into the barrow, the less necromancers he found, and some of those were actually commanding some of the draugr. He disposed of those as well, realizing that the lack of necromancers possibly meant that he was getting closer to his destination.

The young Breton reached a wide hallway, filled with strange engravings on its walls, and a strange door at the end. Near it was another necromancer, who was turned to the sealed doorway, seemingly examining it. But as Harry attempted to approach him silently, the necromancer turned around, his face showing nothing more than pure contempt.

"So, you managed to reach this place…" said the Bosmer "I admit I am impressed, even for someone like you. But don't think that just by arriving here, that you will be able to stop the Wormmother."

"Who in Oblivion are you?" demanded Harry.

"I am Anchorite Denegor," declared the Bosmer. "And you have no business here, protégée of Meridia."

"Rooting out necromancers is my business, Anchorite." retorted Harry "I have every right to be here, and it won't be you who will prevent me from reaching the Wormmother."

Harry took out Dawnbreaker, and with his free hand he summoned an Auroran to assist him against Denegor, while the other mage decided to summon a Lich instead, and took out a short sword. Harry and Denegor charged, the blades meeting as their summoned minions attacked each other. Harry and Denegor were on par, considering their skill with their respective weapon, and the Bosmer's small build allowed him to dodge the majority of Harry's attacks, while successfully deflecting the others with his own sword. But his own choice of a weapon was not good enough, as Harry kept himself at a secure distance, enough for him to be out of the short blade's reach.

Using his free hand to cast a disintegration spell towards the short blade, Harry managed barely hit it, causing his enemy's weapon to be severely damaged. Denegor snarled, and from his hand came a barrage of lightning, directed towards Harry. The young Breton summoned a ward to deflect the attack, also relying on his enchanted armour to protect him. Sheathing Dawnbreaker, Harry used his now free hand to cast Notorgo's Curse on Denegor, striking the Bosmer on his chest.

Denegor felt the spell hitting him, but was unable to perceive what its effects actually were. Dismissing it as a failure, the necromancer stopped his lightning, and moved to cast a fireball at Harry. However, as he moved, Denegor noticed that he was moving slowly, and realized in terror that Harry was moving to strike at him, in what would possibly be a killing blow.

"Lich!" he shouted. "Protect me!"

The undead creature, who had been fighting the Auroran, turned at the demand of its summoner, but in doing so, the lich became defenceless to the Auroran's attacks, and in less than five seconds, the summoned undead was killed, and banished back to where it came.

The Worm Anchorite looked at Harry, his hand raised and glowing with a bronze-like colour, before bringing it down and releasing a small orb-like jet of magic, which went quickly towards Denegor. As soon as it hit the Bosmer, he began to quickly disintegrate into ashes, leaving nothing behind but a few burnt parts of his robe and other charred items the necromancer had. Harry looked at the ashes on the ground for a few moments, before looking at the sealed gate.

On a small table next to the gate was a golden claw, and as Harry grabbed it, he realized that there were engravings on it, one which matched the symbol in one of the sealed gate's rings. Harry went and pressed the symbol in the middle ring, and watched as it turned, a new symbol appearing on its place. He looked at the symbols in the claw, and so he began to match the three rings in the gate to the engravings on the golden claw. Upon doing so, Harry noticed that there was a special slot for the claw, and so he placed it there, only for the mechanism to push back the claw, as the door seemingly activated, and was lowered, giving Harry passage. The young Breton grabbed the claw from the ground, and place it on his bag, before proceeding into the inner sanctum of Bleak Falls Barrow.

* * *

It was clear that he was no longer inside the structure built by the ancient Nords, but inside a natural cavern. As he walked towards the more illuminated are of the massive cavern, a colony of bats came flying towards him, making him duck in reflex. As the bats left, Harry continued on his path to the place where the Wormmother was supposed to be.

He approached a large platform, on top of it a strange semi-circular structure, and an altar of sorts. He could also see something which resembled a sarcophagus, but Harry was not sure if it was truly one. However, what caught his attention, was the robed figure on top of the platform. It was clearly a female Altmer, who seemed to be somewhat old. And despite being aware of the newcomer, she did not seem to be much impressed with Harry's presence.

"And so, the champion of Meridia arrives… too late, I'm afraid." she declared "This tomb has already provided us with what we require for our Lord Mannimarco."

"Mannimarco is dead. Not even you can resurrect the dead," said Harry. "It's impossible."

The Wormmother simply chuckled.

"Do you really think that the King of Worms truly died?" she asked. "Mannimarco is beyond such mortal principles, for he has ascended beyond mortalkind. And that which is immortal, cannot truly die."

"What in Meridia's name are you talking about?"

"You would not understand. Your mind is too restrained to see the beauty of our lord's work," claimed the Necromancer. "Entering combat against you is not my desire, as I would leave defeated. Therefore, there is only one thing left for me to do here."

She raised her hand, and as an orb appeared on it, the Altmer was engulfed by a purple wave, which then disappeared, leaving Harry alone in the wide chamber. He cursed loudly, irritated about the escape of the necromancer, but reminding himself that he had to warn the Elder Council and the Mages Guild about this development.

It was imperative that Mannimarco was not allowed to return.

* * *

 _ **Pocket Guide to the Story, 2nd Edition:**_

 **Order of the Black Worm –** A cult founded by Mannimarco, King of Worms. It is devoted to the unrestricted practice and study of necromancy, and across history it stood in opposition to the Mages Guild.

 **Varulae, the Wormmother** – A female Altmer necromancer in charge of the Worm Nest who took over Bleak Falls Barrow. Her purpose in the old Nord tomb is still unknown.

 **Notorgo's Curse** \- A destruction/alteration spell that damages the target's speed. It was supposed to be featured in Daggerfall, but was removed from the finished game.

 **Sphere of Negation** \- A destruction spell that may cause the target to disintegrate upon contact. It was featured in Daggerfall.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language / Dragon Speech"**

* * *

 **Warning:** The general structure of this chapter may be somewhat confusing for those who are not well versed on the obscure parts of Elder Scrolls lore.

* * *

 _ **Chapter 16 – A Transmission to the Elder Council**_

* * *

 _By secret glyph: dreamsleeve transmission_

 _Dreamsleeve: urgent, security protocols granted_

 _Security protocols: Sancre Tor ancestor wraithbone wards_

 _To Chancellor Abnur Tharn and the Elder Council,_

 _I apologize for the sudden intrusion and the abruptness of my message, but a new development arose here in the province of Skyrim, and which is possibly not restricted to this region of Tamriel. I wish to ask permission to be heard by the Elder Council, at the highest of priorities._

 _Yours under the Red Diamond,_

 _Henry Reman Cyrodiil, Viscount of Sancre Tor, Imperial Regent of Skyrim, Warlock of the Mages Guild, etc._

* * *

 _To His Illustrious Highness, the Viscount of Sancre Tor,_

 _In consideration of your previous records and subsequent influence within the Council, I hope that your petition and audition brings something noteworthy to our attention, as you have done before. I am certain that you are aware of the occupied nature of the Elder Council._

 _I remain,_

 _Abnur Tharn, High Chancellor of the Elder Council, Imperial Battlemage, etc._

* * *

 _I guarantee that the nature of this transmission is of great importance, High Chancellor. My message shall now be relayed to the whole of the Elder Council, I assume?_

 _Yours under the Red Diamond,_

 _Henry Reman Cyrodiil, Viscount of Sancre Tor, Imperial Regent of Skyrim, Warlock of the Mages Guild, etc._

* * *

 _To His Illustrious Highness, the Viscount of Sancre Tor,_

 _Very well. The Council has been notified, and the memospore is under scrying._

 _Abnur Tharn, High Chancellor of the Elder Council, Imperial Battlemage, etc._

* * *

 _Members of the Elder Council,_

 _Despite the nature of my mission here in Skyrim, I encountered first-hand what is on its way to be once more a large threat to the safety of Tamriel and its people. Some of you may have noticed that the practice of the black art known as necromancy has reached a high point in the Imperial Province, and while I don't want to be interpreted as a superstitious fool or a creator of conspiracies, I have many reasons to believe that the rise of this rogue necromancy is in fact connected with what I have discovered here in Skyrim._

 _Those of you who were alive during the last year of the Third Era and are still able to remember the events which occurred, excluding the infamous Oblivion Crisis, may be familiar with the Order of the Black Worm, and their crusade against the Mages Guild, which ended with their utter defeat at the hands of one which would become the last Arch-Mage of the original Mages Guild. This small war between these two factions was devastating to the Mages Guild as well, its ultimate fate well known to you all._

 _However, as much as the remnants of the Mages Guild either became part of the new organizations which appeared with its fall, or were absorbed by other which already existed, such as the College of Winterhold in the province where I am situated at the moment, the remnants of the Worm Cult did the same thing. Their situation for the past two centuries was kept in much secret, but due to my discoveries and close encounters, I can assure with much resolve that the Order of the Black Worm has returned to Tamriel, their purposes as nefarious as before._

 _Let it be known that I invoke my right of mediatisation against the right of admonishment or call of silence which the councillors possess. I shall continue the report on my next transmission, and give the word to any who wish to debate on this matter._

 _Henry Reman Cyrodiil_

* * *

 _By all means, proceed._

 _I am rather interested in this whole affair for personal matters._

 _Divayth Fyr_

* * *

 _Viscount Cyrodiil,_

 _Ignoring how exactly Divayth Fyr managed to enter this transmission, I admit that I am rather intrigued by your claims. Unless any other wishes to speak, do proceed._

 _Abnur Tharn_

* * *

 _To the Illustrious Viscount,_

 _As a fellow member of the Mages Guild, I feel that depending on the severity of your concern with the Order of the Black Worm, then the Oath of Collective Silence should be brought upon those who are involved in the transmission. On another note, I would like to commend Master Fyr for his work on the Corprus Disease and the Dwemer._

 _Azzan of Santaki, Councillor of the Elder Council, Master-Wizard of the Mages Guild_

* * *

 _To Azzan of Santaki,_

 _Your compliment has been well received._

 _Divayth Fyr_

* * *

 _Resuming the former topic,_

 _Our current predicament arose after I joined General Tullius in the small town of Helgen, located in the Hold of Falkreath, where Ulfric Stormcloak was being brought to after his capture. What followed was an event that can be better described to you by the General himself, but let it be known that the town of Helgen was destroyed during said event, and only a group of people survived, mostly soldiers of the Imperial Legion and battlemages of the Shadow Legion, alongside General Tullius and myself. The fate of Stormcloak is unknown to us at the moment, but it is possible he may still be alive._

 _Regardless, while the General returned to Solitude with the surviving troops, I went to another location, more specifically, the town of Riverwood, under the shadow of an old Nord tomb known as Bleak Falls Barrow, from where I am making this transmission. There, I learned that a group of mages had taken residence on these ruins, which led to me investigating what their purpose was here. Let it be known that these mages were necromancers, but not just simple necromancers, for they were members of a revived Order of the Black Worm._

 _While the art of necromancy was banned from public and private use by the Necromancy Act of 4E 6, as promulgated by Potentate Ocato of Firsthold, that is not the least of our concerns with this cult of necromancers. For while they remain true to the practice and study of this abominable art, their true purpose, as revealed to be by an individual known as the Wormmother, is to resurrect the profane Mannimarco, the King of Worms._

 _I give the word to any who wish to intervene._

 _Henry Reman Cyrodiil_

* * *

 _To Viscount Cyrodiil,_

 _Let us assume that this moment of "silence" was caused by the shock of your revelation to the Elder Council._

 _Are you certain of your claims?_

 _Divayth Fyr_

* * *

 _To Divayth Fyr of the Great House Telvanni,_

 _I am certain of it. In fact, there are documents here in Bleak Falls which may serve as proof of my words. Besides, why would I lie in a situation such as this?_

 _I am sure those who were alive during the end of the Third Era remember the small reign of terror caused by the re-emergence of Mannimarco, and the fate of the Guild of Mages in the city of Bruma. More importantly, the role the Worm Cult had during the events of the Interregnum, which are recorded in chronicles and history books._

 _Henry Reman Cyrodiil_

* * *

 _To Warlock Henry Cyrodiil of the Mages Guild,_

 _For some reason, your transmission was intercepted by my trance. Nevertheless, I am well aware of the threat presented by the Worm Cult and the King of Worms. And despite our different ideologies regarding the school of necromancy, let it be known that in the eventual conflict against this revival of Mannimarco's cult, the College of Winterhold shall stand with you against the King of Worms and his profane order._

 _Savos Aren, Arch-Mage of the College of Winterhold_

* * *

 _To Viscount Cyrodiil,_

 _As Divayth Fyr assumed, the Elder Council was indeed silenced by your declaration. I am very well aware of the threat that Mannimarco presents, and the rest of the Elder Council is as well. Do you have any more information regarding the Worm Cult that may be of assistance to this matter?_

 _Abnur Tharn_

* * *

 _To the general recipients of this memospore,_

 _I would like to present the possibility of the infamous Staff of Worms having been stolen from the Arcane University during the Great War against the Aldmeri Dominion as having some connection to this affair, much like other artefacts connected to the King of Worms, such as the Necromancer's Amulet._

 _Augusta Palenix, Councillor of the Elder Council_

* * *

 _Continuing the topic,_

 _From a note written by a Worm Anchorite, a high position in the Worm Cult, it was implied that Mannimarco was already on Nirn, at least partially. I am unaware of what the Worm Cultists are doing to further their efforts, but their desecration of an ancient Nordic tomb may mean that they are focusing on old burial grounds. Due to these circumstances, I would like to petition the Elder Council for your support and official sanction on the restoration of the now defunct Order of the Lamp, the military branch of the Mages Guild which also played a large role on his defeat in 3E 433._

 _Following this declaration, I wait for intervention._

* * *

 _To the Elder Council,_

 _The restoration of the Order of the Lamp will damage our relations with the Synod and the College of Whispers. Are we sure that is the best course of action?_

 _Amaund Motierre, Councillor of the Elder Council_

* * *

 _To Amaund Motierre,_

 _Perhaps you would like to have the bodies of your ancestors defiled and raised as undead by the King of Worms? I would very much support the restoration of the Order of the Lamp and their respective connection to the Imperial Battlemages. Going even further, I would suggest the mutual integration of the Mages Guild and the Arcane University._

 _Besides, it is common knowledge the sycophantic nature of both the Synod and the College of Whispers._

 _Imare of Cloudrest, Councillor of the Elder Council_

* * *

 _To Viscount Cyrodiil,_

 _This issue shall be voted on later, but be assured that we will not be idle towards the Order of the Black Worm. That mistake will not be repeated again._

 _I terminate the memospore here,_

 _Abnur Tharn, High Chancellor of the Elder Council, Imperial Battlemage, etc._


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language / Dragon Speech"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 17 – Dragon Rising**_

 **Bleak Falls Barrow, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

If there was one thing that Harry knew he had to do, was to improve the security protocols of his memospore, considering that his transmission to the Elder Council had been hijacked by at least two other individuals, despite the fact that one of them was a Dunmer sorcerer who was most likely alive during the First Era, and the other was also a Dunmer sorcerer who was the leader of the College of Winterhold. Harry knew that he was no match to Divayth Fir in the art of magic, and he would most likely be killed near instantly if he entered combat against the ancient sorcerer.

Nevertheless, it was a low priority, as he now had to leave the tomb, and continue on his way to Whiterun. He had to warn the Jarl, except he now had to things to warn the man about, and he could only hope that the man was not a lazy bastard. But as he looked at the things which the Wormmother had left behind, he noticed that on an open sarcophagus, which possibly belonged to the dead draugr which was next to it, was a strange tablet with rather peculiar engravings. After examining it more closely, he realized that it seemed to have a rather poorly drawn map of Skyrim, for what Harry did not know.

On its back, on the other hand, were strange markings, which brought to him the feeling that he was supposed to know what they meant, almost as if they were a sentence of sorts. Shrugging, Harry placed the stone on his bag, and moved to look for a way out of the cavern. Yet as he prepared to look for the way out, Harry felt a warm breeze fall over him, and as he looked at where it came from, his eyes fell on the strange wall next to the sarcophagus. Approaching it, harry saw that there were several inscriptions on the wall, just like on the back of the stone tablet, and one of them had a blue glow.

He looked at it and his mind began to somehow record the glowing inscription, and on his mind a word echoed.

 _"Fus."_

Harry did not know what it meant, but it invoked a strange sensation of familiarity. He remembered that the dragon in Helgen had said that word, or one similar, but it was not the origin of the sensation. Nevertheless, his eyes fell on the locked chest near the strange mural, and the two acquired a rather usual glint.

After all, his bag was, for all intents and purposes, bottomless.

* * *

If there was one thing that Harry now hated, were those damn wolves. While there were wolves in Cyrodiil, they had the tendency of hunting alone, and not in packs. Still, they were not as annoying as Mudcrabs, or even Slaughterfish. And another thing Harry discovered about the wolves of Skyrim, was that they, much like the majority of many other creatures in Tamriel, had the strange tendency to have coins inside their stomach, likely from adventurers they had previously devoured.

Nevertheless, after taking care of the vermin which was on his way, Harry continued on his way to Whiterun, and after a few minutes of walking on the road, he came upon a small cliff, observing a city in the distance, which was very much likely Whiterun. Towering above the city was a seemingly large complex, which Harry assumed to be the residence of Jarl Balgruuf.

He went down the cliff, until he reached a stone bridge, which then was followed by the road into the hold's capital. Harry walked down the road, passing by some guards and a farm with what seemed to be a dead giant on it and headed towards the first gate to the city. There was a clear difference in the architecture of Whiterun from the other two holds he had been, and it seemed that Whiterun went for a simple, set ornamented style.

As he proceeded into the outer city walls, Harry began to wonder if the people in Whiterun were already aware of the dragon threat. Most likely, since the damn thing had flew towards the city, and had for some reason not attacked it.

But as he approached the main gate, he was stopped by one of the guards.

"Halt! The city is closed with the dragons about." said the guard "Official business only."

 _"As if closing the city's gates will do any good."_ thought Harry _"The damn things fly."_

"I am here with news from Riverwood." declared Harry "The town is defenceless and may require the Jarl's aid."

Beneath his helmet, the guard's eyes widened in surprise.

"Riverwood's in danger as well? You better go in then." said the guard "You'll find Jarl Balgruuf in Dragonsreach, atop the hill."

Harry nodded, and waited until the gate was opened for him.

* * *

 **Whiterun, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

As he entered the city, Harry found himself in absolute curiosity with it, even if he was just at the entrance. As he looked at the distance, he could see what seemed to be a market stall, and just a few meters away from him was what seemed to be Whiterun's blacksmith.

As he walked past two of the cities inhabitants, one them, which was a man dressed in the light armour which the Legion used in Skyrim, turned suddenly to him.

"You there!" he called.

Harry turned towards the man.

"Grey-Mane or Battle-Born?"

"Not this again…" muttered the woman who he was talking to.

"What?" asked Harry confused.

"I said Grey-Mane or Battle-Born." he repeated.

"What are you talking about!?"

"He is asking you if you either support the Grey-Mane clan or the Battle-Born clan." said the woman.

"Erm, what's the difference?" asked Harry.

"The Battle-Born clan stands loyal to the Empire, as all Nords should be," declared the man "The Gray-Mane clan prefers to shout praises to Ulfric Stormcloak. So I ask again, Grey-Mane or Battle-Born."

The choice was basically non-existent.

"Considering that I am here on Skyrim by the other of the Emperor himself, I would say that Battle-Born is the best choice in this matter."

"Really? Then I say well met friend," said the man, his tone changing from cold to as if he and Harry had known each other for years. "I could tell you were a sharp one the moment I laid my eyes on you."

 _"Right…"_

"Erm, who are you?" asked Harry.

"I am Idolaf Battle-Born, son of Olfrid Battle-Born, and a member of the Imperial Legion."

"I am Adrianne Avenicci." said the woman "I am one of the two blacksmiths here in Whiterun. My father serves as the Jarl's steward."

"Henry Cyrodiil," he introduced himself.

"Cyrodiil? You're the Viscount of Sancre Tor, aren't you?" asked Adrianne.

Harry nodded.

"Why in Shor's name are you here in Skyrim?" asked Idolaf.

"The Emperor has sent me here to assist General Tullius in the rulership of this province, at least until a new High King or Queen is chosen."

"Fine by me," said Idolaf. "What brings you to Whiterun?"

"I came to deliver a message from Riverwood to the Jarl," said Harry. "About this whole thing with the dragons."

"Then you should hurry to Dragonsreach." said Adrianne "The Jarl is holding court right now."

"Thanks," said Harry smiling. "I'll see you two around."

The young wizard quickly ran towards the market, and climbed the stairs towards an area with a large leaf-less tree. On a corner seemed to be a man shouting about someone, but Harry ignored him, and continued to climb another set of stairs, until he reached the entrance to Dragonsreach.

* * *

The first impression that Harry had from the fortress was that it was enormous, and it seemed to be far larger within that the exterior would make appear. As he approached the throne of the Jarl, he began to hear the conversation between the Jarl himself and a man which he thought to be Adrianne's father.

"…cannot afford to act rashly in times like these." said the steward.

"And what would you have me do, then?" questioned the Jarl "Nothing?"

"My lord, please, this is no time for rash action." pleaded the steward "I just think that we need more action before we act…."

But Balgruuf's attention was shifted towards the newcomer.

"Who's this then?" he asked, as a Dunmer woman approached Harry.

"What's the meaning of this interruption?" she questioned in a stern and irritated voice "Jarl Balgruuf is not receiving any visitors."

"I come from Helgen and Riverwood with news, about the dragons." Said Harry "And something else that must be brought to the Jarl's attention."

"That explains why the guards let you inside Whiterun." said the woman, still not trusting full Harry "Come on then, the Jarl will want to speak to you personally. And keep your distance from him."

Harry approached the Jarl, making sure to keep a safe distance between the two, and the older man looked directly at him.

"What's this I hear about Helgen?" asked the Jarl "Were you there? Did you see this dragon with your own eyes?"

"Yes, Jarl Balgruuf." answered Harry "We were about to execute Ulfric Stormcloak when the town was attacked by a dragon. The last we saw it, it was heading towards the mountain near this city."

"We? I assume you are with the Empire, then?" questioned Balgruuf "No matter. I should have guessed that Ulfric would have been mixed up in this. You mentioned Riverwood. Has it been attacked as well? And what was the other thing you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Riverwood has not been attacked, Jarl Balgruuf, but there is the possibility of them being attacked, since they are a rather easy target." Said Harry "Regarding the other thing, you may have, or at least had, a problem in Bleak Falls Barrow."

"Bandits?" asked Balgruuf.

"No. Well, there were bandits there, but they had all been killed by necromancers." revealed Harry.

"What!?" nearly growled Balgruuf.

"Don't worry. I killed them all when I ventured into that place." Said Harry "And if you want to make that I am saying the truth, then just send a small group of guards up there to check. However, those were not just simple necromancers."

"Not just simple necromancers?" questioned Balgruuf, rather confused.

"The necromancers I confronted in Bleak Falls were part of an ancient cabal known as the Order of the Black Worm."

Proventus gasped at the declaration.

"Impossible." said the man "The Worm Cult was destroyed two centuries ago."

"The Order was disbanded, yes. But they were reformed." stated Harry "How long ago, I don't know, but they seem to be very organized. I already informed the Elder Council of this development, and the College of Winterhold has been made aware as well."

That gave some relief to Proventus and the Jarl, but there were still other matters to take care of.

"I will see what I can do. But regarding the dragons…what do you say Proventus?" asked the Jarl "Shall we continue to trust the strength of our walls? Against a dragon?"

 _"Dragons can fly dammit!"_ thought Harry somewhat irritated with the fact that no one had thought of it as well.

"My, Lord, we should sent troops to Riverwood at once." suggested the dark-skinned woman "If that dragon is lurking in the mountains then Riverwood will certainly be a target."

"The Jarl of Falkreath will view that as a provocation!" countered Proventus "He'll assume we're preparing to join Ulfric's side and attack him. We should not…"

"The Jarl of Falkreath is far more interested in his luxuries than in my troops." said Balgruuf "And I'll not stand idly by while a dragon burn my hold and slaughters my people!"

He then looked at the woman, Harry finding this conversation rather interesting.

"Irileth, send a detachment to Riverwood at once."

The woman quickly nodded. "Yes, my Jarl."

"If you'll excuse me, I'll return to my duties." said Proventus resigned and somewhat displeased by the Jarl's decision.

"That would be best." replied Balgruuf.

As the two left, the Jarl turned towards Harry, who had remained silent during the whole conversation.

"I have to thank you, for the service you have done to Whiterun." said Balgruuf "However, I would like to know your name."

"Henry Cyrodiil," said Harry.

"Cyrodiil… you are a descendant of the old line of Reman, then?" asked Balgruuf.

"I am, yes."

The Jarl seemed to nod at something, but Harry could not see the reason for the nod. The man then took a dagger from a small table next to him, and handed it to Harry.

"Take this, as a reward for your service to Whiterun, and as a token of my esteem." Declared Balgruuf.

Harry took the dagger and observed it. It was of a black colour, with white-like patterns all over it. He rather liked it though.

"On another matter, since you went to Bleak Falls Barrow, you perhaps didn't find a strange stone of sorts?" asked Balgruuf "My court wizard has been strangely obsessed with an object similar to that which is apparently buried in that old tomb."

"Strange stone…?" asked Harry, as he thought of the tablet he recovered from the inner sanctum of the barrow. "I did collect a strange stone, but I am not sure if it is what your court wizard wants."

"You don't mind if we show it to him, do you?"

"Not at all." said Harry "I myself actually want to know what exactly the thing is."

Balgruuf rose from his throne, and guided Harry towards a room, filled with many objects which Harry recognized from his time in Chorrol's Mages Guild. At a table filled with tomes and a few soul gems, was a robed wizard, which was apparently oblivious to their arrival.

"Farengar, I think I found someone who may have what you have been looking for." declared the Jarl.

The wizard's head snapped upwards.

"You mean the Dragonstone of Bleak Falls Barrow?" he asked, looking at Harry.

The young Breton opened his bag, and summoned the stone tablet. Grabbing it, Harry placed it on the table, allowing Farengar to observe it.

"This is it!" said the man excitedly "This is the Dragonstone!"

The Jarl quietly left, leaving the two wizards alone.

"What exactly can you tell me about this thing?" asked Harry.

"I came to learn that this tablet contains information about the burial sites of dragons, here in Skyrim," said Farengar. "I hope you don't mind if I study it, though."

"Not at all," said Harry. "But when you are done, I want it back."

"A fair deal," said Farengar.

"By the way, is there an inn here in Whiterun?" asked Harry "I need to rest for a while."

"There's the Bannered Mare, near the market." replied Farengar.

Harry nodded.

"If you make some breakthrough, then you'll know where to find me."

* * *

It didn't take long for Harry to find the Bannered Mare, and once inside, he felt far warmer than in the streets of Whiterun, or even inside Dragonsreach. He quickly went towards the counter, intending on buying something to drink. However, as he went towards the counter, Harry's eyes fell on someone who was sitting at the corner alone. Recognizing who it was, Harry changed his path, and went towards said person.

"As I live and breathe, Uthgerd the Unbroken!" he said, attracting the attention of the woman, whose eyes widened in surprise.

She got up near instantly, and headed towards Harry, greeting him with a rather strong hug, together with a mutual clap on each other's back.

"Cyrodiil, what are you doing here?" she asked. "Haven't seen you since that little adventure in…what was it called anyway?"

"Wenyandawik." said Harry "And what about you? What brought you to Skyrim?"

"Cyrodiil was too much domestic." She said "And I thought that in Skyrim there would be more chances of exploration, so I came to this place a few months ago. I tried to join the Companions, but that didn't work very well."

Deciding not to press on the issue, Harry began to speak about other topics with Uthgerd, the pair sharing tales of their respective adventures since their last encounter in Cyrodiil. At least half an hour passed, and the two had basically gotten up to speed with each other's state. Uthgerd had been surprised when Harry had revealed what his role in Skyrim was, but she did not consider it much, since he had been a protégée of Titus Mede II. Whatever the old man wanted with Harry, was something only he and the gods knew.

However, after a few more minutes, their conversation was ended abruptly, as the housecarl of Jarl Balgruuf entered the inn, and headed straight towards Harry.

"Cyrodiil, you are required in Dragonsreach!" she said, rather quickly.

"What happened?" he asked, getting up from the chair.

"A dragon has been sighted nearby, and the Jarl has called for you." she said.

Harry nodded, and turned towards Uthgerd.

"Sorry, but we will have to speak later." He said.

"Nah, I'm coming with you." she stated "I want to see what this business with dragons is all about."

"Erm…all right then." said Harry before turning to Irileth "Let's go then."

The three left the inn, and ran towards Dragonsreach. As soon as they reached it, Irileth guided them towards a chamber above the main hall, where Balgruuf was waiting for them. There was also a guard there, and he was telling something to the Jarl. After hearing the report that the guard had given to the Jarl, Harry began to wonder if it was the same dragon from Helgen. Nevertheless, he would learn it soon enough.

"I've already ordered my men to muster near the main gate." said Irileth.

"Good. Don't fail me," replied the Jarl before he turned to Harry. "This is not time to stand on ceremony, my friend. I believe I need your help. Since you have more experience with these dragons and survived Helgen, I request you to go with Irileth and see if you can… take care of this problem we have."

"I shall see what I can do, Jarl Balgruuf."

Harry was rather excited for this. The possibility of fighting an actual dragon was making his blood boil, and the teenager quickly headed towards the Watchtower, alongside Uthgerd, Irileth, and the other guards.

* * *

Part of the watchtower was completely ruined, and amongst the stone rubble there was also burning wood. He was already prepared for a fight, having Dawnbreaker on his hand, and the other free for any spell casting. Uthgerd on the other hand, held with her two hands a greatsword made of steel, and was much like Harry, ready for battle.

"No dragon here." said Uthgerd.

"Not now at least, but there was certainly a dragon here." stated Harry, looking at the rubble.

"That damn thing can return." Said Irileth "We need to see if there are any other survivors, so spread out and see if you can find anything."

As the group approached the tower, a soldier came from within, crouching as if afraid that the dragon would see him.

"No, get back! The thing is still here somewhere!" he shouted "Hroki and Tor just got grabbed when they tried to make a run for it."

Irileth immediately ran towards the guard.

"What happened here? Where is this dragon? Quickly now!"

"I-I don't know!"

Out of nowhere a sound that Harry recognized came from the distance. And it seemed that he was not the only one who did.

"Kynareth save us, here he comes again!"

Harry and the guards observed as a dark form appeared from behind the mountain, slowly becoming bigger as it approached.

"Here it comes!" shouted Irileth "Find cover and make every arrow count."

As the dragon approached the watchtower's new defenders, all those present ran to find cover from the dragon, while also attempting to find good spots to fire their arrows or to attack the dragon when he was close enough. Harry heard the dragon roar, and saw as some of the guards shot arrows at the creature. Instead of using the bow, Harry used one of the spells he had learned in his grandfather's library. The spell itself conjured arrows, which were then shot at high speed towards a target, and he had used it several times, as a good replacement of a bow.

The dragon flew by, avoiding some arrows yet getting hit by others, until he turned towards one of the soldiers mid-air.

 _ **"Yol Toor Shul!"**_

A continuous blast of fire came from the dragon's mouth, and its intended target managed to escape his certain death only by quickly jumping behind the rubble. The dragon seemed to ignore his own failure, and simply returned to his flying around the tower, evading the arrows of the combatants.

 _ **"I had forgotten what fine sport you mortals can provide!"**_

Harry became momentarily surprised that the dragon could speak in Tamrielic, but continued to send arrows at the flying creature, and eventually one hit it on its throat.

 _ **"Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde!"**_

From this encounter and what happened in Helgen, Harry could conclude that Dragons seemed to have a language of their own, and there was still that strange sensation of familiarity. He sheathed his wand, and began to use Tamrielic magic against the dragon. He used a continuous bolt of lightning against the dragon, and as it made contact, the beast roared in pain.

It flew right above Harry and Uthgerd, and the Nord warrior managed to wound it by slashing the dragon with her greatsword. The dragon landed several meters away from them, but clearly wounded from both Harry and Uthgerd's attacks.

 _ **"You are brave. Balaan hokoron. Your defeat brings me honour."**_

Harry turned towards Uthgerd.

"I'm going to strike against it." he said "Cover your eyes!"

"What!?"

"Just… cover your eyes!"

Harry ran towards the dragon, who was distracted with the guards. AS soon as he was close enough, Harry took out his wand, and pointed it at the dragon.

"Lumos Solem!"

An enormous blast of light erupted from Harry's wand, temporarily blinding those that were close enough.

" _ **Dur kro!"**_ it growled _ **"Dii miin nis koraav!"**_

In a blind rage, the dragon did what he did best.

 _ **"Yol Toor Shul!"**_

Harry avoided the blast of fire by sliding beneath the dragon's head, and managed to climb its throat. Taking out Dawnbreaker, Harry held it above his head, and brought it down into the dragon's throat. The dragon roared in fury and in pain, until he realized who the person on top of his neck was, and the fury and pain turned into terror.

" _ **Dovahkiin!"**_ he said, his voice already raspy and nearly lost _**"Niid!"**_

Uthgerd ran forward, and plunged her sword into the dying dragon's head. It took a few seconds before the dragon stopped struggling, and the body slumped on the ground. Harry was completely shocked, despite the situation. He had just killed a dragon. But then he began laughing, remembering those stories about his brother killing dragons when he was three years old. Except those were fake, and this one was very real.

He got up from the dragon's neck and looked towards Irileth and the guards. The Dumner and they all seemed to be all looking shocked at Harry.

"That was…impressive." said the dark elf.

"We just killed a damn dragon…" said Uthgerd, rather stunned by the whole affair as well.

But then with Harry unaware of it, the dragon's corpse began to burn.

"Everybody, get back!" shouted Irileth.

Harry looked behind him, and saw that the dragon's body was seemingly on fire. He quickly moved away from hit, but as he did, it seemed that the flames were following him. In a second, the flames coming from the dragon's burning corpse engulfed him, and Harry's mind became filled with foreign knowledge and memories. The dragon he had just killed was apparently called Mirmulnir, and with him he also learned the meaning of some of the dragon's language, but the knowledge was fractured, like a torn book.

Yet there was something on his mind that began to sound like a gentle whisper, a single word.

 _"Fus…force…"_

And when the flames were all absorbed by his own body, all that remained of the dragon was its skeleton and pieces of its hide.

But as he looked at the guards, looking for an explanation, all he saw was even more shocked looks directed at him.

"I-I can't believe it…" said one of them "You're…Dragonborn…"

"What?" he questioned confused "I'm pretty sure that my parents were human."

"In the old tales, back when there were still dragons in Skyrim, the Dragonborn would slay dragons, steal their souls and their power." he tried to explain "That's what you did, isn't it? Absorbed that dragon's power?"

"I don't know." He said, still unsure about his current predicament "Maybe I did…."

"There is only one way to find out. Try to shout, that would prove it."

"Try to shout huh…." wondered Harry "From what Mirmulnir's soul 'told' me, a shout is that thing he did when fire came out of his mouth. So perhaps that strange word from Bleak Falls…"

Harry turned towards the dragon's skeleton, and reached out into the strange meaning of the word.

 _ **"Fus!"**_

Instead of his normal voice, a strange force emanated from his mouth, pushing the dragon's skeleton away a few meters. What followed was a pseudo-argument between Irileth and the guard, before Harry and Uthgerd eventually returned to Whiterun, to give the news to the Jarl.

However, as the he climbed the steps towards Dragonsreach, a ground shaking shout was heard all across Skyrim.

 _ **"Dovahkiin!"**_

It was almost as if it was thunder, and not even Mirmulnir's shouts were that potent.

Nevertheless, the duo continued on their way to Dragonsreach, entering the fortress, and Harry began to wonder what he would tell the Jarl.

* * *

 _ **Pocket Guide to the Story, 2nd Edition:**_

 _ **Thuri du hin sil ko Sovngarde –**_ My overlord will devour your souls in Sovngarde

 _ **Balaan hokoron –**_ Worthy enemies

 _ **Dur kro –**_ Accursed sorcerer

 _ **Dii miin nis koraav –**_ My eyes cannot see


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 18 - Dragonborn**_

 **Whiterun, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

Before Harry had made way towards Dragonsreach, Uthgerd had told him that she was going to the Bannered Mare for a while, and asked for him to return there when his business with the Jarl was finished. The two went to their respective destinations, Harry to Dragonsreach and Uthgerd to her favourite inn in Whiterun. It had been then that the ground shaking shout had been heard across Skyrim, and Harry's somewhat fragmented knowledge on the Dragon language allowed him to translate the "Dovahkiin" as Dragonborn.

It had been what Mirmulnir had called him before his death, and it was also what the guards who had been part of the battle called him as well. However, from what the guards had said, he had "stolen" the dragon's soul, and that was a rather strange concept to Harry, although he felt more powerful than before. It was a strange sensation, as it was almost as if he was more…complete, as strange as that sounded.

Regardless, Harry entered the old palace, and went towards the throne, where the Jarl was, alongside Proventus and another man which he had not met. AS soon as he approached, Proventus came towards him rather quickly.

"Good, you are finally here." Said the Imperial, his voice filled with relief "Jarl Balgruuf has been waiting for you."

The young Breton approached the throne, hearing the conversation between the Jarl and the other man.

"You heard the summons. What else could it mean?" asked the Jarl to the other man, who turned towards Harry.

"Is he the one?" asked the Nord, observing Harry, rather interested on his armour.

"Perhaps." said the Jarl before turning to Harry "So, what happened at the watchtower? Was the dragon there?"

"The watchtower was severely damaged by the dragon, but when we arrived it was gone." Said Harry "It returned shortly after our arrival though, but we managed to kill it."

"I knew I could count on you and Irileth." he said "But there must have happened something more. Something strange to the dragon?"

Harry narrowed his eyes, wondering how much did Balgruuf know about this whole Dragonborn business.

"Something happened when I killed the dragon." he answered "His body began to burn and some flames went towards me. The men there called me Dragonborn after that, and the dragon did as well before I killed it."

Balgruuf's eyes widened.

"So it's true, the Greybeards were really summoning you then." said the man is wonder.

"Greybeards?" asked Harry.

"Monks who live in seclusion in a fortress on the Throat of the World." explained the Jarl "Masters of the Way of the Voice."

"What do they want with me then?"

"If you really are Dragonborn, then the Greybeards will possibly want to teach you of how to use your gift with the Voice." suggested Balgruuf.

"You will have to make the pilgrimage of the Seven Thousand Steps to reach High Hrothgar, much like old Tiber Septim did, when he was summoned." said the other Nord.

"I once did the pilgrimage myself." said Balgruuf "It is a tiring task, and you may want to take supplies with you. The Greybeards have summoned you, and it is a great honour to be so."

Harry was certain that he had many supplies on his bag. More than he required, though.

"In any case, your actions have been proven to have been a great service to me and the hold of Whiterun, Dragonborn. Both in dealing with this dragon, and your actions in Bleak Falls Barrow as well." declared the Jarl "Therefore, by my right as Jarl, I name you Thane of Whiterun."

" _Well, that makes it two."_ thought Harry, thinking of the thaneship granted to him by Maven.

"It's the greatest honour that's within my power to grant." continued the Jarl "I assign you Lydia as a personal housecarl, and this weapon from my armoury to serve as your badge of office."

He gave an axe to Harry, and the new thane noticed that the weapon had a strange blue glow, meaning it was enchanted.

"As a thane of Whiterun, you require a residence in the city, so I gift you with Breezehome."

"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf." Stated Harry "It is an honour."

"The honour is ours Dragonborn, to have you as thane of our city." replied the Jarl.

His work was done in Whiterun, at least for now. It was time to see his new property and to meet with his new housecarl.

* * *

Lydia was a rather interesting person. Much like the other people, she had been surprised when she learned that the Dragonborn and the new thane of Whiterun was actually a teenager, but she quickly got used to the fact that the person she was supposed to protect was somewhat younger than her, possibly less than ten years. In fact, even if she did not show it, she was rather proud of herself, to have been chosen to be the housecarl of the Dragonborn, his age not mattering.

However, Harry was not one to leave his properties unguarded, so he had assigned Lydia to Whiterun, having her taking care of the house there. Regarding Breezehome, Harry thought it to be a rather cozy house, if not small, considering that he was used to larger habitations. The house was fully furnished, and it had two bedrooms alongside a small alchemy laboratory. Harry thought that there was no bathroom inside the house, until he discovered that there was a trapdoor to the basement, where the bathroom actually was.

He left the house, and headed towards the Bannered Mare, where he found Uthgerd eating a potato soup in what seemed to be her usual spot. He sat down in front of her, called for the waitress, ordering a horker loaf.

"So, what happened with the Jarl?" asked Uthgerd as the Redguard waitress went away.

"I explained to him what happened, and in turn he explained to me that that shout were the Greybeards summoning me." replied Harry "At the end, he made me a Thane of Whiterun, due to my service to the hold, apparently because of what I did in Bleak Falls Barrow as well."

"So, what are you going to do now?"

"Since the Greybeards summoned me, it would be impolite not to respond to them." Said Harry "After I send a letter to General Tullius in Solitude, I shall depart to High Hrothgar."

"You're doing the pilgrimage?" she asked.

"Surprisingly, yes." declared Harry "Considering the fact that I mostly fly from one place to another…"

Uthgerd snorted, before drinking a bit of her mead.

"Say, Uthgerd…what do you think of coming with me to High Hrothgar?" suggested Harry "Unless you prefer to say here in Whiterun…"

"And miss the little adventures that you always stumble upon?" she said "I'm not going to let that opportunity slip away. Of course I'm going!"

Harry smiled at the Nord warrior, and soon enough the Redguard waitress returned with his soup.

* * *

After leaving the Bannered Mare, Harry went to Breezehome, intent on writing the letter to Tullius. As soon as it was done, the young Breton hired a courier to deliver it, making sure it was sent at a high priority.

Harry himself was not very anxious on climbing a mountain, but it was a challenge he would not deny. Not to mention that the Greybeards could perhaps explain better to him what it meant to be a Dragonborn. But night was falling on Skyrim, and so both Harry and Uthgerd decided they would rest until tomorrow to begin their journey towards the Throat of the World.

The next day, Uthgerd met Harry in the Bannered Mare, where the two made plans for their travel. The two decided to go towards Helgen, and from there they would head to the small town of Ivarstead. It was a rather straightforward path, and there was little to no chance of them getting lost.

* * *

 **Ivarstead, The Rift, Skyrim**

Harry and Uthgerd eventually arrived at Ivarstead, having passed through the ruins of Helgen. Harry had taken the time to see the full extent of the damage that Alduin had caused. He had come to learn the name of the dragon through Mirmulnir's soul, and he now knew that Alduin was the leader of the dragons. Perhaps he would learn more about Alduin when he met the Greybeards, or perhaps not. First, he had to reach them.

The young Breton noticed that the town was somewhat similar to Riverwood, except less prosperous. Nevertheless, he was not there to help the town to grow, as that was Maven's job, but to climb the seven thousand steps to High Hrothgar. As he approached a bridge that lead into the start of the steps, Harry could not help but overhear a conversation.

"On your way up the 7,000 Steps again, Klimmek?" asked the Bosmer.

"Not today." answered Klimmek "I'm just not ready to make the climb to High Hrothgar. The path isn't safe."

"Aren't the Greybeards expecting some supplies?" asked the elf.

The man simply shrugged.

"Honestly, I'm not certain." he responded "I've yet to be allowed into the monastery. Perhaps one day."

After the Bosmer was gone, Harry decided to approach the man.

"Excuse me, is there something wrong with the path to High Hrothgar?" he asked.

"Hum? Well, the snowstorm last night may have caused the path to be rather slippery, so I'm not certain if it is safe for anyone to go there."

"I travelled here so that I could make the pilgrimage." stated Harry "I'm not going to stop now."

"Are you? If you are going up there, could you take some supplies I have here to the Greybeards?"

"Might as well do it." said Harry "But if I decide to return here, then I expect a reward of sorts."

"Of course!" said the man, before handing a bag to Harry, who placed it inside his own bag, ignoring the incredulous looks he was receiving from the man.

The teenager turned towards the mountain, and with Uthgerd, the two began to climb the seven thousand steps.

"I never thought that I would do this in my life." said the Nord warrior.

"Well, there is a first time for everything Uthgerd."

* * *

As the two climbed the mountain, Harry and Uthgerd took the time to read the etched tablets and to speak with two Nords which were also doing the pilgrimage of the Seven Thousand Steps. However, the two also met a few obstacles on their way, such as wolves and a frost troll. The duo made sure to rest during the climbing, and when the night sky nearly covered Skyrim, the two arrived at the monastery.

* * *

 **High Hrothgar, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

"Well…we're here." said Uthgerd, rather tired.

Harry was tired as well, and so the young Breton decided to call it a day. Despite being right outside the monastery, Harry decided that it would be better if they were to meet with the Greybeards only when the two were in a better state. Harry went towards a large chest nearby, and placed the supplies that Klimmek had given him inside. As soon as he did that, Harry removed his tent from the bag, and choosing a secluded spot protected by the walls of High Hrothgar, the mage used his wand to erect the tent.

"Isn't that a bit small?" asked Uthgerd.

Harry simply motioned her to enter, and despite her confusion, Uthgerd followed him inside the tent. What she found was not what she was expecting.

"It's… bigger on the inside."

Harry simply chuckled at the reaction.

"Well, get used to it." he said before falling into a comfy Victorian sofa.

And so, the two spent the night inside the tent, only to be awakened in the morning by the light of Magnus.

* * *

Once the two were prepared, Harry and Uthgerd entered the monastery. As they did, the two noticed that a robed man was seemingly awaiting him on the monastery's hall. Uthgerd remained close to the entrance, and so Harry approached the robed man. But before he could speak, the man approached him as well.

"So…a Dragonborn appears, at this moment in the turning of the age." said the Greybeard.

"What?" asked Harry confused "What do you mean?"

"First, let us see if you truly are Dragonborn." said the aged man, instead of answering Harry's question "Let us taste of your Voice."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Shout at us." said the man "Worry not, we are well capable of withstanding a dragon shout."

Harry simply shrugged at the man's statement, and did as he was asked.

 _ **"Fus!"**_

Once again, a strange force was expelled from Harry's mouth making the Greybeard nearly fall over. But as he steadied himself, he looked at Harry, this time with a look of strange reverence.

"Dragonborn, it is you." he said "Welcome to High Hrothgar. I am Master Arngeir. I speak for the Greybeards."

"Henry." he introduced himself "But you can continue to call me Dragonborn, it doesn't really matter to me."

"Very well then. Now tell me, Dragonborn, why have you come here?"

"Well…you did summon me Master Arngeir." He said "But I also came here to learn more about this whole Dragonborn business. I mean, I knew that my ancestor was also Dragonborn, but there was almost no explanation about it."

"Your ancestor?" asked Arngeir with curiosity.

"Reman Cyrodiil, the one who founded the Second Empire." answered the Breton.

"The Greybeards never received Reman Cyrodiil here in High Hrothgar, but neither did we summon him." admitted the Greybeard." But we did summon you. And we are honoured to welcome a Dragonborn to High Hrothgar. We will do our best to teach you how to use your gift in fulfilment of your destiny."

"My destiny?"

"That is for you to discover." said the old man "We can show you the Way, but not your destination. Perhaps you are destined to greatness, much like Tiber Septim himself who came here long ago. Or perhaps you will be cast into obscurity, much like any common man."

" _I would prefer the first one, if you don't mind."_ thought Harry.

Well, there was only one sensible choice here.

"I am ready to learn."

* * *

Harry spent several days in High Hrothgar, while Uthgerd decided to go to the town of Ivarstead during Harry's time with the Greybeards. Harry had made sure to give a rather considerable amount of gold to the woman, allowing her to remain there with no problem.

Despite being amongst the Greybeards, Harry found it strange that he only could speak with Arngeir, as the voice of the others was dangerous. Still, even without speaking, they still assisted Harry in the ways they could. Mostly, Harry learned from Arngeir the history behind the origin of the Greybeards and the Way of the Voice, much like he learned the basics behind the rather obscure Dragon War.

Other than history, Harry was instructed in the basics behind the Dragon Language, alongside the Thu'um, which was composed of three words of power. He knew at least one word, "Fus", which was part of a shout which the Greybeards called "Unrelenting Force". They instructed him on its second word, "Ro", which in turn game more power to the shout. Arngeir had warned him that his nature as a Dragonborn would give him a far more clear understanding of the words, but in turn, it made the shout more powerful and dangerous.

For that explanation, Harry was reminded of the ancient Nord Tongues which used the Thu'um to break down walls of cities with a single shout, to the point where they were the main target of archers.

And while Harry had a good progress in his practice with the two words of Unrelenting Force, the second shout he learned gave him a few unwanted pains. The first time he used Whirlwind Sprint, Harry went straight into a rock, unable to stop himself. Other attempts made him fall over from the speed, so he focused more on this shout, practising on his balance. Eventually, he began to succeed on using it without failure, but there was always the chance of a fall or two.

When the time came, the Greybeards decided to test Harry's progress with the Thu'um, and it was little surprise to them that he passed the test.

"Your quick mastery of a new Thu'um is...astonishing." said the man clearly amazed "I'd heard the stories of the abilities of Dragonborn, but to see it for myself..."

"I don't know how I do it." he admitted "It just happens naturally."

"You were given this gift by the gods for a reason." said Arngeir "It is up to you to figure out how best to use it. You are now ready for your last trial."

Harry began to ask himself what was coming next.

"Retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller, our founder, from his tomb in the ancient fane of Ustengrav. Remain true to the Way of the Voice, and you will return."

"Very well Master Arngeir."

The old man simply nodded, and said few words.

"Sky above, Voice within."

* * *

 **Ivarstead, The Rift, Skyrim**

When Harry returned to Ivarstead, he went straight to Vilemyr Inn, wanting to meet up with Uthgerd. But as he approached her, he realized that there was something wrong.

"Henry, you're here. Finally!"

"What's wrong?" he asked, not comfortable with Uthgerd's behaviour. IT was not normal for her.

"Remember that barrow outside the town?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"Yesterday, a group of robed figures went inside of that ruin." She said "I managed to sneak up to them, and I saw that their robes had a brownish image of a skull and skeletal arms."

Harry's eyes widened and his hand went by reflex towards Dawnbreaker, a single thought on his mind.

 _"Well…it seems that the Worm Cult is on the move."_


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

 _ ***Other Speech***_

" **Other Language"**

" _ **Dragon Speech & Shouts"**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter**_ _ **19 – Shroud Hearth Barrow**_

 **Ivarstead, The Rift, Skyrim**

Passing by the houses, and towards a rocky hill, Harry and Uthgerd approached the ruins of Shroud Hearth Barrow. Uthgerd had told him that the locals believed it to be haunted by ancient spirits, and while a few thought it to be superstitious nonsense, Harry knew better than to just dismiss the possibility. Perhaps that was what had attracted the Worm Cult to this region of Skyrim, seeking to enslave the spirits of the ancient Nords buried inside the Barrow.

Or perhaps they sought something else…much like in Bleak Falls Barrow. But whatever these necromancers wanted, he would soon find out. The two entered the antechamber to the entrance, and the duo began to look around for anything that the Worm Cult might had left there.

"This area is empty." stated Uthgerd who began to look at the door, attempting to open it. "Damn! They locked this place!"

"No problem." said Harry, taking out his wand and pointing it at the locked door "Alohomora."

Oddly enough, nothing happened. The door remained locked, which led to Harry attempting once more to unlock it with Earth magic. Once more he failed, leaving the young mage rather confused.

"Why isn't it working?" he wondered out loud, before attempting to unlock it with the Open spell.

Once more his attempt failed, leaving Harry somewhat frustrated over the fact that he could not open a simple door. But before he could do anything else, a freezing chill washed over both him and Uthgerd.

 _ ***Who…who is there?***_ asked a strange voice.

Uthgerd and Harry looked around, trying to find the source of the voice, but not having such luck.

"Hello?" asked Harry.

 _ ***Leave…you must leave this place…***_ insisted the voice _***Or you will share my fate.***_

"Who are you?" asked Harry "Who's there?"

From the sealed door came a ghostly figure, giving both Harry and Uthgerd a momentary scare. It was clearly the ghost of a Dunmer, judging by its general appearance, dressed in fur armour with a dagger at its belt.

 _ ***You must leave, or they will find you!***_ warned the ghost.

"Who? The necromancers?" questioned Harry.

 _ ***Yes…they were the ones who…truly made me into this…***_

That was a strange choice of words.

"The necromancers…did what?"

 _ ***I…I was not dead…but I was also not alive…***_ lamented the ghost _***Too long I spent, guarding this barrow, and with it my mind was lost. But now, truly in death…I can see more clearly…and what a fool I was.***_

"Do you have a name?" asked Uthgerd.

 _ ***A name? Yes, I…I think I have. Or at least I did once.***_ said the ghost rather uncertain _***I think I was once called…Wyndelius. Yes…yes, that was my name!***_

"Then, Wyndelius…can you tell us what happened?" asked Harry.

 _ ***It's…difficult to say. My memory is not all there.***_ said the ghost of the Dunmer _***All I can remember was that I came here to seek something…I can't remember what. But the people from the village kept interrupting my search. So I created…something to scare them off. But…***_

Wyndelius stopped talking, and Harry wondered if the ghost was wondering about the events which lead to his death.

 _ ***I became…something. All I remember is myself wandering this tomb, guarding its halls…until they arrived.***_ continued Wyndelius _***One of them killed me, and it was then that I began to return to my true self. But…it's difficult to remember…everything…***_

"But why do you stay here?" asked Harry "Shouldn't you have moved on?"

 _ ***I can't!***_ declared the ghost with much conviction and fear on his voice _***I have to keep them bound to this place.***_

"Bound them?" questioned Uthgerd.

 _ ***The ones who ended me.***_ explained the ghost _***I know what they want, and I cannot allow them to leave this place.***_

"What do they want?" inquired Harry, knowing that the answer would not be very pleasant.

 _ ***They…the necromancers…they seek to destroy this town.***_ declared the ghost _***I heard their intentions…to collect the souls of Ivarstead and raise an army of undead for their master! I know his name… for it is cursed in the land of my ancestors. The name belonging…to the foul Worm King…***_

Harry and Uthgerd were shocked by the revelation of the plans that the Order of the Black Worm had for Ivarstead. To think that they would go to such an extent to serve their terrible master…

 _ ***I must remain…I keep this barrow sealed away…***_ said Wyndelius _***The atonement for my actions…the protection of the people of Ivarstead…***_

That was…a rather noble goal. But eventually, Harry knew that Wyndelius alone would not be able to contain the necromancers of the Worm Cult.

"Wyndelius, I am here to root out these necromancers." said Harry, wanting to convince the ghost to allow him into the barrow "The ones who have trapped in here are just a small part of the entire cult. I have destroyed a cell of these necromancers once, and if you give me passage, then I will be able to destroy these as well."

 _ ***Truly? You have? You…you can?***_ the ghost seemed to be between excitement and doubt _***Perhaps…perhaps this will be my chance for redemption… Then, I give you entrance…but I shall accompany you. In any way...with your entrance, the defilers will know that the tomb is unsealed, and will attempt to escape.***_

"If any of them tries that, we'll cut them down." declared Uthgerd.

Wyndelius nodded, and turned around passing through the door, making it burst open as soon as he was on the other side. Harry and Uthgerd entered, and accompanied with the ghost of Wyndelius, they descended into the depths of Shroud Hearth Barrow.

* * *

When they reached the bottom, Harry and Uthgerd, became fully silent, being guided by Wyndelius. The traps had been disabled by the Worm Cultists, and for now their path was mostly safe and clear. Their first obstacle was a lone necromancer, who fell to Harry's ebony blade, the gift that Jarl Balgruuf had given him. What followed the necromancer was a small chamber with at least three skeletons and two more Worm Cultists.

This time, it was not a stealthy fight, as Harry, Uthgerd and Wyndelius charged at their opponents, taking them by surprise. The battle took a while, as both Harry and the necromancers spent a while summoning minions from Oblivion, culminating into the destruction of the skeletons by Harry's magic and Wyndelius's dagger, and the death of the necromancers at the hands of Uthgerd and an Auroran which Harry had summoned.

They proceeded into the barrow's depths, eventually finding a group of draugr which were killed by both Harry and Uthgerd, however, the sound of the battle attracted the attention of necromancers which were nearby, leading to a battle right after that one. Since the camber where they were was far larger than the previous one, Harry had far greater liberty with his spells. One of the necromancers had been killed in a rather gruesome manner, the majority of his bones all broken thanks to the potency of the Burden spell which Harry had cast towards him.

Eventually, after defeating even more opponents, the trio reached a rather secluded chamber, close to the barrow's Hall of Stories.

 _ ***This is where it happened…where I died…***_ said the Dunmer ghost.

Harry looked around, until his eyes fell onto a body near a wall. There were wounds provoked by magic, most likely the cause of Wyndelius's demise. The body was still in a good state, and it seemed that his death had been recent. Oddly enough, the necromancers had seemingly left the body alone. Harry left the body there, and went to examine the room, finding a journal on top of a table. Opening it, he came to learn that it was written by Wyndelius when alive, and its entries showed how the Dunmer abandoned a rather normal life to pursue his ambitions of treasure hunting, culminating in his arrival at the barrow, and how his mind had been slowly eroded.

It was rather creepy, and the change in date at the last entry made Harry wonder if there was anything else involved in the madness that corrupted Wyndelius. He would be more wary of Nordic tombs in the future, not wanting to suffer the same fate as the Dunmer, but in a possible different way.

"This journal mentions a claw." Stated Harry "Did you eventually found it?"

 _ ***No. I spent much time searching for it, and I would later learn that it was the innkeeper who possessed it.***_ said the spectre **_*At least until they came. One of them stole the claw, and gave it to a…anchor…anchorite? I can't remember how he was called.*_**

"A Worm Anchorite." Explained Harry "This one must be leading this cell of the worm cult."

 _ ***They opened the passage in the hall, and he went forward.***_ revealed Wyndelius **_*But I did not follow him…*_**

Harry nodded in understanding, and followed the Dunmer to the Hall of Stories, where the passage had been left open, unlike in Bleak Falls Barrow. The three continued on their way into the depths of the ruin, finding many opponents on their way. Harry realized that there were far more necromancers here than in Bleak Falls, and he began to truly wonder how many there were in the Order of Black Worm. The Worm Cultists had enthralled the Draugr and other undead inside the barrow, and Harry was sure that if they had the chance, the Worm Cult would use them to attack Ivarstead.

Armed with Dawnbreaker and his knowledge and proficiency of magic, Harry massacred the necromancers and their minions, enveloping the crypt in a maelstrom of fire and ashes. Uthgerd and Wyndelius had to find cover, giving space to Harry, and making sure that the Dunmer ghost was not affected by Meridia's artefact. After successfully passing through other obstacles and clearing out the barrow of undead and necromancers, the three finally reached what seemed to be the last area of the barrow.

* * *

They entered a large chamber, filled with many sarcophagi. All of them were sealed, and Harry wondered how longer they would remain like that. But at the end of the room, on a high platform, was a robed figure, seemingly a male human, holding a staff and protected by some sort of shield. The three took out their main weapons, ready to fight the robed man.

"I had not expected Meridia's chosen to become aware of our operation here. No matter. Not even Meridia's power will be able to assist you here." said the Worm Anchorite "Awaken! An intruder has arrived!"

Suddenly, many of the sarcophagi burst open, revealing those who had been buried in them. Draugr and skeletons came out, ready to attack the trio. Harry and Uthgerd went for the attack with their swords, while Wyndelius attacked the undead with magic. The large amount of undead was not exactly pleasing Harry, as he and his companions were surrounded by all sides with undead warriors. And while Uthgerd was more successful in striking a greater quantity of opponents, Harry had the advantage of using Dawnbreaker's abilities against the horde of undead.

Using a Turn Undead spell, he was able to make the draugr and skeletons back away, much to the irritation of the Worm Anchorite.

"What are you doing!?" he yelled "Attack them!"

The horde tried to obey the Anchorite's orders, but Harry's magic was far more potent than the spell which had enslaved them. In the end, it was all a matter of willpower, and it would be Harry who left victorious, his skills superior to that of the Anchorite. Disoriented, the undead were far easier to repel, and so the three were able to eradicate the reanimated warriors, much to the horror of the Worm Anchorite. In a last resort, the man attempted to combat with his three opponents in a more direct way, but as he tried to cast a single spell, the Worm Anchorite realized that he was without magicka.

Giving him no time to react, Wyndelius ran towards the necromancer, and plunged his ghostly dagger into his heart, much to the shock of the necromancer. The man fell on the floor, life leaving its body.

 _ ***By the ancestors…it is done…***_ whispered the ghost.

Harry approached the ghost.

"I guess you can now…move on?" asked the young Breton.

 ** _*Yes… I have to thank you two…for your help…*_** said the spectre **_*Whatever treasure this place holds…it has cost me much…*_**

The Ghost turned towards Harry and Uthgerd.

 _ ***And perhaps now…I can truly rest…***_ he said **_*ALMSIVI and Nerevar guide you, my friends….*_**

And with these words, the ghost of Wyndelius disappeared, leaving harry and Uthgerd alone inside the Nordic barrow.

"What do you think?" asked the Nord woman after a moment of silence.

"Uh? About what?" replied Harry.

"Did he redeem himself?"

Harry looked at the spot where the ghost had been, and at the corpse of the Worm Cultist.

"His actions in life proved to be more damaging to him than to others." said the young man "And even if it was only in death that he came to realize his mistakes, he at least acted to make amends. In my eyes, he redeemed himself. But I'm not the one who decides that, am I?"

Harry went towards the Word Wall in the far end of the room, observing the glowing word. Looking at it, his mind began to register the word itself, and soon he heard it as an echo, on the back of his mind.

" _Kaan…"_

Harry returned towards Uthgerd, and the two went outside, intending on leaving the barrow. But there was something else that Harry needed to do.

* * *

He gathered all the materials necessary, or at least those available to him. But the young Breton managed to create an Ash Pit with small stones and rubble from the ruins. Harry placed inside the circle the corpse of Wyndelius, and using a fire spell, he made sure to incinerate the body, until ashes and a few bones were all that remained.

He made sure to carve a makeshift shrine to Nerevar and to the ALMSIVI on the wall close to the ash pit, although he found it strange that the Dunmer had worshipped the latter, since the Tribunal had been replaced by the Reclamations after the Red Year, by the Dissident Priests. Nevertheless, Harry made sure to keep the things as tidy as he could.

After all, this was still a burial site, and the necromancers had done enough damage to the place.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 20 – The Horn**_

* * *

 _By secret glyph: dreamsleeve transmission_

 _Dreamsleeve: urgent, security protocols granted_

 _Security protocols: Sancre Tor ancestor wraithbone wards_

 _To Chancellor Abnur Tharn and the Elder Council,_

 _Once more I apologize for my sudden intrusion, but I fear that the situation with the Order of the Black Worm has become far more serious than before. I ask permission for my message to be heard by the Elder Council under urgency._

 _Yours under the Red Diamond,_

 _Henry Reman Cyrodiil, Viscount of Sancre Tor, Imperial Regent of Skyrim, Warlock of the Mages Guild, Thane of Riften and Whiterun, etc._

* * *

 _To His Illustrious Highness, the Viscount of Sancre Tor,_

 _Do proceed with your communication. Your message is under scrying by the Elder Council. Do try to make it quick, though._

 _I remain, Abnur Tharn, High Chancellor of the Elder Council, Imperial Battlemage, etc._

* * *

 _Members of the Elder Council,_

 _I am afraid that the order of the Black Worm is currently following orders which I must reveal to you. Moments ago, I destroyed a cell of the Worm Cult whose goal was the destruction of a town here in Skyrim. From what I discovered, after killing the citizens, they would trap their souls and reanimate their bodies, seemingly to further their ominous goal._

 _I am afraid however, that my current knowledge regarding this revival of the Worm Cult is very much limited. I furthers my confusion their goal, since Mannimarco was supposed to have been permanently killed by the last Arch-Mage of the first guild, and his rumoured actions during the Miracle of Peace were undone, at least according to one of Nu-Hatta's claims, made centuries ago before the assassination of Emperor Uriel Septim VII._

 _I ask for your thoughts on the matter, and for the possibility of official intervention, as mentioned on my previous transmission._

 _Henry Cyrodiil_

* * *

 _To the Viscount,_

 _The official investigation of the Elder Council regarding the Order of the Black Worm has not yet been completed, but from what the Council has gathered, your statements have proven themselves to be true. This unfortunate revival of the Worm Cult brings danger and instability to the Empire, so it is rational that we wish for this to be solved as fast as it can be._

 _Your petition for the revival of the Order of the Lamp was voted and passed, but it has not been officially ratified by Emperor Titus Mede II and the Council. It also requires the approval of the current Arch-Mage of your guild, but he has already been contacted, and has given you his approval._

 _Abnur Tharn_

* * *

 _To the Viscount of Sancre Tor,_

 _A similar event occurred in Daggerfall a few weeks ago, and while the town, Longwark, if I am not mistaken, managed to repel the attackers, we never succeeded in figuring out who made the attack, considering that it happened late at night. All that we know, was that amongst the attackers were a group of undead._

 _Curiously enough, it was not just the guard who managed to repel the attackers, but also the population of the town. The official report mentioned that they were not organized, and that gave the advantage to the defence. If the attackers were indeed the Worm Cult, then they may not be as organized as they want us to think. Unless they have corrected that trait._

 _I remain,_

 _Infant Armand of Daggerfall, Duke of Lamcroft, Councillor of the Elder Council, etc._

* * *

 _To the Elder Council,_

 _If that is indeed the case, then we have a clear advantage over the Worm Cult. However, those I met have a clear internal structure, and seem to have a certain degree of organization. We may or may not be talking about different organizations, Duke Lamcroft._

 _In any case, it brings me joy to learn that my petition has been successful, and I shall send to you a draft of the Order's charter for evaluation. If I become available, then I shall also return to the Imperial Province to meet with you personally. However, if you so permit, I would like to be informed regarding the details of your investigation regarding the Worm Cult._

 _Henry Cyrodiil_

* * *

 _To the Viscount,_

 _From established records in the archives of the White-Gold Tower and the investigation done by the Arcane University, the Shadow Legion and other Imperial organizations, we have been able to confirm that Mannimarco was indeed killed at a location named as Echo Cave, here in Cyrodiil, his body recovered by the Mages Guild shortly after his demise, and given the funerary rites of Arkay. The details surrounding the King of Worms and the Warp in the West are vaguer, as the events surrounding the Dragon Break are not very clear to the Elder Council._

 _From what little we know, Mannimarco ascended to become the God of Worms, yet also taking names such as the Necromancer's Moon and the Shade of the Revenant. If the mad Nu-Hatta is to be believed, then Mannimarco's apotheosis was undone. However, that claim goes against the events surrounding the Worm King's return during the Third Era, so it is fair to dismiss them as the ramblings of a madman._

 _As concluded by the second report, Mannimarco, the God of Worms, that being the title more appropriate for him at the moment, is indeed in the Mundus. I would elaborate more, but I don't have the documents here at the moment._

 _Idula Ginith, Councillor of the Elder Council_

* * *

 _To the general public of the memospore,_

 _The events that occurred during the Warp in the West are still inconclusive to this matter, most of them at least. Regardless, the final confirmation that Mannimarco did achieve some sort of apotheosis is alarming._

 _Necromancy is unable to truly resurrect a dead being, capable only of creating a mockery of life. The King of Worms is no exception to this rule. However, while we may be safe from Mannimarco, the King of Worms, we are not safe from Mannimarco, the God of Worms. Whatever these necromancers are attempting, it may have something to do with the god, not the mortal._

 _My suggestion is that the Worm Cult may be trying to bring the God of Worms to Nirn, therefore fulfilling their desire to "resurrect" Mannimarco. It is a plausible theory, especially considering that the Order of the Black Worm mentioned that Mannimarco was partially on the Mundus._

 _Calindil of Skywatch, Councillor of the Elder Council_

* * *

 _To the Elder Council and the Viscount,_

 _If we are facing Mannimarco, should we not be on the lookout for any deals with the Daedra? Historical records indicate that Mannimarco was involved with the Princes of Oblivion before._

 _Amaund Motierre, Councillor of the Elder Council_

* * *

 _Councillor Amaund Motierre,_

 _Whatever deals Mannimarco and his cult may do with the Daedra will all end in failure. The sacrifice of Septim at the end of the Oblivion Crisis made sure of that._

 _Claudius Jarol, Councillor of the Elder Council_

* * *

 _To Claudius Jarol and Others,_

 _Do not dismiss the possibility. The covenant between Alessia and Akatosh was broken once during the Second Era, by the hand of Mannimarco himself. I would advise you to keep quiet about matters which you are ignorant about._

 _Regardless, the progress of the investigation is advancing at a favourable pace. Viscount Cyrodiil, once we are sure about the events concerning the rise of the Worm King's cult, then we shall contact you. If you do find something else, then contact us as you have done. In the meantime, I remind you to return to Cyrodiil when you can so that we can get rid of the bureaucracy regarding the Lamp Knights._

 _I hereby terminate the memospore,_

 _Abnur Tharn, High Chancellor of the Elder Council, etc._

* * *

 **Ivarstead, The Rift, Skyrim**

As soon as he had made the transmission, Harry made sure to prepare himself for an oncoming voyage to Ustengrav. He wanted to retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller as soon as he could, but first he had to learn where Ustengrav actually was. He had to dig up a few books regarding the history of Skyrim, and the time of Jurgen Windcaller. Most of them vaguely mentioned the man, and fewer mentioned Ustengrav.

However, one of the books did mention vaguely where the tomb had been built, the location referred to as "where the snow turned into barren land", and as being north of Kjenstag and east of Folgunthur. Sine those two ancient ruins were luckily recorded on some maps, Harry's work was much diminished. But he still had to walk a lot to figure where Ustengrav actually was.

Good thing he had a map and a broom.

* * *

 **Hjaalmarch, Skyrim**

It was nice to be one more in a place with fewer mountains. The hold of Hjaalmarch was very much of interest to Harry, since it was the location of the ancient ruins of Labyrinthian, and by extension the location of Shalidor's Mage. However, another thing that raised Harry's interest in the ruins was the fact that it had been there that the usurper Jagar Tharn had hid a piece of the fabled Staff of Chaos, which led the Eternal Champion on a quest to find all the pieces and free Uriel Septim VII from his prison in Oblivion.

As such, it was a place he intended to visit, but unfortunately, that would have to be done later, when he had less work on his hands. Now he had to find Ustengrav, or at least what remained of it. He and Uthgerd would be bound to eventually find the damn tomb.

* * *

 **Ustengrav, Hjaalmarch, Skyrim**

It took a while, but the two eventually found a small ruin which had an entrance somewhat similar to that of Shroud Hearth Barrow. However, it looked more like the ancient Nords had made a large hole, and then they had made the entrance inside the hole.

As expected, the old Nordic barrow was filled with draugr and skeletons, some walking, some truly dead. Surprisingly, the interior of what was apparently Ustengrav was enormous, making Harry wonder how long it took for the ancient Nords to build the underground complex, and why exactly the ruin was filled with draugr in the first place, since Jurgen Windcaller lived years, perhaps even centuries after the fall of the Dragon Cult. It then came to his mind that Ustengrav had been possibly built during the Mythic Era, and it had been used later to entomb Windcaller.

Despite the fact that these type of ruins were filled with undead guardians, Harry enjoyed exploring them, not just for the sake of adventure and the "occasional" looting, but also because it allowed him to view first-hand the history of those who had built the place. The engravings, architecture and statues were a point of high interest for the young Breton, despite the fact that he had somewhat neglected the study of ancient Skyrim during his years in the Imperial Province. He had been far more interested in the history of the other provinces of Tamriel, more specifically, Morrowind, Cyrodiil and the Summerset Isles.

Nevertheless, he and his companion descended into the depths of the old fane, eventually reaching a puzzle that took quite a while for them to decipher, as it required the usage of the Whirlwind Sprint shout. When he had completed the puzzle and unlocked the way for Uthgerd, the two continued on their way, searching for the horn. Unfortunately for Harry, the next chamber had a rather large frostbite spider, alongside a smaller one. And while Uthgerd had no problem with the arachnids, Harry felt much creeped out by the things. Eventually, it had been Uthgerd who had killed the larger one, Harry having killed the other with his magic.

Advancing into the tomb, the two reached a large chamber with a pool in its middle. On the end of the room was what seemed to be a sarcophagus with something on top of it, but Harry could not see exactly what it was. A bridge connected the two ends of the room, and when Harry entered the room alongside Uthgerd, from each side of the bridge two statues rose from the water.

"Amazing…"whispered Uthgerd.

"Yeah…" said Harry, observing the statues still rising from the pool.

The two went towards the sarcophagus, their eyes falling on the fallen draugr and the open sarcophagi nearby. Harry turned to look at the main sarcophagus, hoping to find something there, but on the stone hand atop the coffin was not a horn, but a piece of paper, carefully place there.

"It seems someone has beaten us to the horn." said Harry as he took the paper from the stone hand, before opening it.

Apparently someone did actually got to the horn before them, and on purpose. The note was clearly addressed to him, since the one who had left it there meant it to be discovered by the Dragonborn, and asked him to go to Riverwood and rent a room in the Sleeping Giant Inn. This was either an extremely elaborate attempt at publicity or someone had a rather strange method of arranging meetings.

Well…it was time to return to Riverwood.

* * *

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

It took quite a while to return from the north of Skyrim back to the small village of Riverwood. Once he had arrived, Harry made sure to head directly for the Sleeping Giant Inn. Once inside, Harry was greeted by both the warmth coming from the fire, and the innkeeper as well. And while Uthgerd went to sit at a free table, Harry went towards the counter, where the innkeeper, a possibly Breton woman, was.

"Excuse me, but do you have an attic room available?" he asked.

The woman raised her eyebrow, but answered nonetheless.

"An attic room, eh?" she asked "We don't have an attic room, but you can have the one on the left. Make yourself at home."

Harry gave the innkeeper the gold, and in return she gave him the key to the room. Harry headed towards the room, and opening the door, Harry entered the small room and made sure to check it for anything suspicious. He realized that there was also a note on the table next to the bed, and so he opened it. The writing was the same as the one in the Ustengrav letter, but this one told him to wait until it was late at night.

Shrugging, Harry placed the note on the table, and locking the door, he went and joined Uthgerd at the table, where the two spent greater part of the rest of the afternoon, either eating or chatting, a few mugs of mead to stop the dryness in their throats.

* * *

The night had arrived, and Uthgerd had also rent a room for herself, wanting to rest as well. He would have lent her the tent for the night, but the Nord had insisted on the inn room. The inn was pretty much empty, and so Harry entered the room that the innkeeper had given him, and closed the door without locking it. He sat on a chair in the small room, and began to read the fifteenth sermon of the "36 Lessons of Vivec" once more.

As he got more immersed in the book, Harry was surprised when the door was opened, and the innkeeper entered, a horn on her hand. Was she the one who…?

"So you're the Dragonborn I've been hearing so much about." she said, before handing him the horn "I think you're looking for this. We need to talk. Follow me."

Harry took the horn, looking at it with suspicion. He watched as the woman left the room, and he followed her cautiously into a large bedroom. She closed the door as soon as he entered, and ran towards the wardrobe. Harry watched as she opened it, only to reveal an empty interior. She pressed the wooden panel, and so it retracted into the wall, revealing a hidden passage.

" _I need to get one of those for Sancre Tor."_ thought the young Breton.

The woman motioned Harry to enter, and he did so, allowing her to close the secret passageway behind them. Harry went down the stairs, and entered a room filled with chests, old equipment, a rack with many ingredients, and other things. At the centre was a large table, a map on top of it.

"Now we can talk." she said "The Greybeards seem to think you're the Dragonborn. I assume they are correct on that matter."

"I guess…" he said, still stunned "You were the one who took the horn?"

"Surprised? I guess I'm getting pretty good at my harmless innkeeper act." Declared the woman "In any case, we haven't been introduced yet. I am Delphine. And you?"

"Henry Cyrodiil."

Now it was Delphine's turn to be surprised.

"Cyrodiil? A descendant of Reman?" she asked.

Harry nodded.

"Do you have some way to prove it?" inquired Delphine.

Harry removed his cuirass, revealing a black shirt covering his torso. However, hanging on his neck was the Amulet of Kings, the Chim-El Adabal shining in the darkly lit room. Delphine's eyes were drawn to the amulet, her mouth nearly hanging open.

"Impossible… That…that's the Amulet of Kings!"

Harry took of the Amulet, handing it to Delphine.

"Try to put it on." He said.

The woman looked at the Amulet with the same look that Harry had when she had given him the horn, although she placed it around her neck. As soon as she did so, the Amulet somehow slipped right though her neck, and Harry quickly reached out to grab the amulet before it fell on the floor.

"But…how?" she asked "The amulet was destroyed in the Oblivion Crisis."

"It's a long story, but I still want to know why you have gone although all the trouble of going to Ustengrav and took the horn, only to bring me here." He said before looking around "I mean…why all the secrecy?"

"Hhm…since you are one of the dragonblood and possibly the dragonborn, then perhaps…"mumbled the woman, before resuming her normal stance "Well, in any case, as I said, I am Delphine. I am an agent and one of the last members of the Blades."

"The Blades? But weren't they…you…disbanded?"

"The Empire may have dissolved the Blades, but we still continue to exist, although in fewer number." explained Delphine "Long ago, as the Dragonguard from the lands of Akavir, we were dragonslayers, and so we served the greatest of all the dragonslayers, the Dragonborn."

"Yes, I know that." said Harry "It's why the Dragonguard pledged themselves to Reman I, right?"

"Yes, and when the dragons fully disappeared, our role became limited to the protection of the Dragonborn emperor and his heirs." Revealed the woman "But with the death of the last Septim with the dragonblood, the Blades have been searching for a new purpose, and it seems that our two purposes have returned at the same time."

"A strange coincidence." suggested Harry "But what is the reason you brought me here?"

"You already know part of it." She said "As a member of the Blades we are required to search for a Dragonborn, when there are none… available, shall we say. However, the reason I have brought you here is more in line with this dragon business that has taken over the rumour roads of Skyrim."

"And…why do I feel that you are not telling me something?"

"You see, dragons are not just coming back out of nowhere. They are coming back to life, resurrected." stated Delphine "They were killed by my predecessors, but now there is something that is bringing them back to life."

"You mean…fully back to life?"

"Yes. Not necromancy as you know it, but they are being truly resurrected." declared Delphine "I have visited their burial grounds, and found some empty, while others are still untouched. My study of a map of their burials can perhaps give us the location of the next…resurrection. However, I have not been able to discover where it is at the moment."

"How long until you discover it?" asked the young Breton.

"The progress has been good, so perhaps tomorrow." she said "But I would suggest that you first give the horn to the Greybeards, and then meet me here. When you return, perhaps I shall have the possible location."

Harry nodded, still a bit suspicious of the woman, but rather tired considering his day. He told the woman that he would be going to bed, and that they could continue their conversation tomorrow.

Now, he had to rest.


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

 _ ***Other Speech***_

" **Other Language"**

" _ **Dragon Speech & Shouts"**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter**_ _ **21 – The Dragon and the Guard**_

 **Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

When Harry awoke, the inn was practically empty, and not even the bard had arrived yet. He made sure to eat something before departing, being quite hungry. Uthgerd was seemingly still asleep, as there was no sign of her in the inn, and the door to the room she had rented was closed shut. Harry made sure to write a note to her, so that she would wait for him in Riverwood until he returned. Giving said note to the man at the counter, Harry left the Sleeping Giant Inn, his broom on his hand, and so the young Breton flew towards High Hrothgar, intent of giving the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller to the Greybeards. It was a snowy day, and even Riverwood had been covered by the snow. The climate on the Throat of the World however, was a little rougher than down there in the small towns.

The monastery was nearly covered in snow, and it wasn't even near the pinnacle of the mountain. There was a clear storm occurring above High Hrothgar, more than half of the mountain covered by dark and grey clouds, to the point where one could not see either the top of the mountain or its base. Harry landed on the courtyard, and immediately ran towards one of the doors to the monastery. Entering it, the young Breton stored away his broom, and made his way to Arngeir, who was meditating in the main hall.

"Master Arngeir." greeted Harry.

"Ah, Dragonborn. You have returned." Said the old man "Have you recovered the horn of Jurgen Windcaller?"

Harry opened the bag and took out the horn that Delphine had given him, handing it over to the old monk, who took it before examining it.

"And so you have passed the final trial, as we expected." declared the Greybeard "Now, with your trials complete, it is time for us to formally recognize you as Dragonborn."

Arngeir told Harry to wait in the hall, and the old man left with the horn. Moments later, he returned, accompanied by the other Greybeards, who formed a semi-circle around Harry.

"Before the ceremony, you shall learn the final word of Unrelenting Force, 'Dah', which means 'push'." said Arngeir.

One of the Greybeards, which Harry recognized as Master Wulfgar, moved forward, and removed the cloth around his mouth.

"Dah…" whispered the man, enough to cause a small rumble.

As it had happened before, the word of power appeared carved on the floor, emanating a reddish glow. And as Harry looked at it, his mind registered the word, but not what it meant to the dragons. The knowledge he had was not enough regarding that.

"And with all these three words together, the Shout is much more powerful. Use it wisely, and remember that the more you use the Thu'um, the more potent, and dangerous, your shouts become." stated Arngeir "Were you not Dragonborn, you would eventually be required to cease to speak, as the Thu'um and its power would superimpose themselves over your own voice, much like it happened to my colleges and the ancient Tongues."

Harry nodded in understanding, silently grateful over the fact that he would not be required to cease the use of his voice.

"With your knowledge over Unrelenting Force complete, your training has been completed, Dragonborn. We would Speak to you." Said Arngeir, as the others moved to form a circle around Harry "Stand between us, and prepare yourself, for few can withstand the unbridled Voice of the Greybeards."

" _Nice to know that…"_ he thought.

"But you are ready." continued the old man.

Harry moved towards the centre of the circle, making sure that he was in the right spot. He watched as the Greybeards, removed the cloth around their mouths, before raising their hands, and he anxiously waited for whatever was to come.

" _ **Lingrah krosis saraan Strundu'ul, voth nid balaan klov praan nau."**_

When Harry had heard the Greybeards summoning him after he had killed Mirmulnir, he had thought that their shout had been powerful, as it had been heard in Whiterun, while they had been on the mountain, far away from the city. However, at the moment he had been far away from the source of the shout.

The Greybeards were around him, and when they shouted, was as if he has being pushed by a titanic force from all sides, yet strangely enough it caused him no pain or any kind of physical damage. In fact, despite having this feeling, and the horrible ringing on his ears, Harry simply lost his balance with the strength of the Voice of the Greybeards and the strong rumble caused by their Voice as well.

" _ **Naal Thu'umu, mu ofan nii nu, Dovahkiin, naal suleyk do Kaan, naal suleyk do Shor, ahrk naal suleyk do Atmorasewuth."**_

From his limited knowledge of the language of dragons, Harry could understand bits of what the Greybeards were saying, something about 'Dragonborn', 'power', 'Shor' and 'Atmora'.

" _ **Meyz nu Ysmir, Dovahsebrom. Dahmaan daar rok."**_

As soon as the thunderous rumble stopped, the Greybeards placed back their cloths, while Arngeir approached Harry, who was a bit stunned after the experience.

"Dovahkiin. You have tasted the Voice of the Greybeards, and passed through unscathed." He said "High Hrothgar is open to you.2

"Erm…thank you, I guess." said the Breton, still a bit out of balance "But what was that all about?"

"We spoke to you the traditional words of greeting to a Dragonborn who has accepted our guidance." Explained Arngeir "The same words were used to greet the young Tiber Septim when he came to this monastery, before he conquered the Ruby Throne."

"And what did you say to me?" inquired Harry "I just understood a few words, and I could not even understand some of the words you said, mostly due to the loudness."

"It is understandable, as you are not as versed in the dragon tongue as we are. I can give you a rough translation of the ceremony." said the old man "Long has the Stormcrown languished, with no worthy brow to sit upon. By our breath we bestow it now to you in the name of Kyne, in the name of Shor, and in the name of Atmora of Old. You are Ysmir now, the Dragon of the North, hearken to it."

"Ysmir?" asked Harry "Isn't that name attributed to both King Wulfharth and Talos?"

"A name and a title, Dovahkiin. When Talos came here, answering the summons, the name was bestowed upon him, yet history does say that Wulfharth had been called Ysmir as well." stated the old Greybeard "I cannot claim to know the absolute truth, and the origins of Ysmir are clouded to the Greybeards as well. But Wulfharth and Talos are no longer amongst us, and as we said before, you are now Ysmir. Take it as a name or as a title, the choice is yours. However, it is something that has been marked in you by the gods. If you so wish, meditate on this, Dragonborn."

Harry thanked Arngeir for the explanation, and the hospitality which he had received from the Greybeards. And as he left the monastery, the young boy came to realize that the weather outside High Hrothgar was now clear, only a few clouds in the sky.

* * *

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

When Harry had arrived at Riverwood, he went quickly towards the Sleeping Giant Inn. Once inside, he noticed that there were more people there than when he had departed to High Hrothgar. Looking around for Uthgerd and Delphine, Harry realized that they were not there. Or at least, they were not in the inn proper. Entering Delphine's bedroom, Harry went towards the secret passage, and after opening it, the teenager went to the hidden basement, where the two women were waiting for him.

Unlike before, Delphine was no longer in her usual attire, now sporting a leather armour which had a rather old appearance, while on her belt was an Akaviri katana. Uthgerd was sitting on a chair, eating a piece of bread, although Delphine had been looking at something on the table, before noticing Harry's arrival.

"We heard the 'shouting' from here. Well…at least all of Skyrim did." said Delphine "I assume you gave the horn to the Greybeards?"

"You assume correctly." he answered.

"Then I guess we can begin our work. I have briefed your companion here on the current events that surround us, and what we are going to do."

Harry approached the table, and looking at it, he saw that Delphine had been looking at a map.

"So…what it is that we are going to do?" he inquired, rather curious.

"My study of this map and of my own field research have made something clear." She declared "The resurrection of the dragons is not occurring randomly, but in a pattern which begins from the southeast and begins to spread north and west. If I am correct, then the burial mound near Kynesgrove is the next."

"I guess that's where we are headed then." said Harry "We have a dragon to kill."

Delphine nodded, while Uthgerd ate the last piece of her bread.

"I took the time to prepare myself for this." stated the Blades' agent "Let's get to Kynesgrove. I only hope we are not too late."

* * *

 **Kynesgrove, Eastmarch, Skyrim**

Harry did not feel comfortable upon entering Eastmarch, considering that it was Stormcloak territory and he was a public figure in the Empire. Still, despite being on the lookout for any Stormcloaks that could cause trouble to him, Harry and the other two went as quickly as possible to Kynesgrove.

The trip was not made in silence, and Harry came to realize that Delphine still seemed to be still wary of him, while at the same time she also seemed to see him as some sort of beacon of hope, if that was the correct way to put it. Still, considering that her Order had been decimated by the Great War and the Thalmor, not to mention that she had to spend her life hidden away…he was sure that his own personality would suffer drastic changes as well.

When they had finally reached Kynesgrove, Harry found it strange that the town was seemingly empty. It seemed that Delphine had realized that too, as she began to mumble.

"Something is wrong…"

The three ran towards the inn, and into the path towards the burial mount, but where interrupted when a woman came from the inn, shouting.

"No, don't go up there!" she yelled "A dragon…it's attacking!"

"Where's the dragon!?" asked Delphine.

"I-It flew right over the town, towards the burial mound." said the scared woman.

As soon as she said that, the trio began to run towards the burial mound, as fast as they could. Taking several shortcuts, they quickly reached the area, and so, they took cover behind a large boulder. There was a strange energy emanating from the burial mound, and a black dragon was hovering above it.

" _Hold on…that's…!"_ though Harry as he recognized the dragon, apparently Alduin, the Nordic Dragon God of Time.

"Lorkhan's eyes, look at that big bastard!" whispered Delphine "Keep your head down, let's see what it does."

Harry and Uthgerd nodded, and looked at Alduin, who was focused on the mound.

 _ ***Sahloknir! Zill gro dovah ulse!***_ he spoke _ ***Slen Tiid Vo!***_

As Alduin shouted at the mound, moments later the very ground seemed to explode, as the skeleton of a dragon rose from the mound, seemingly alive and conscious. The three watched with amazement as the skeleton became engulfed in flames, as its body was restored to a normal state.

"By the gods…" whispered Delphine.

"That was…amazing." said Harry, rather fascinated with what had happened, but for utterly different reasons.

The resurrected dragon looked at Alduin, and so it spoke.

 _ ***Alduin, thuri! Boaan tiid vokriiha suleysksejun kruziik?***_

Harry was understanding part of the conversation, and so he could figure out the rest by filling the gaps on his mind. He made sure to listen carefully when Alduin spoke next.

 _ ***Geh, Sahloknir, kaali mir.***_

However, Harry had not been expecting Alduin to suddenly turn towards him, seemingly being aware of his presence.

 _ ***Ful, losei Dovahkiin? Zu'u koraav nid nol dov do hi.***_

Oh, but that was something that Harry understood in its entirety. And so he decided to respond, in the best way he could, considering his limited vocabulary of the dragon language.

 _ ***Hin mindol los voth nid vahzen, Alduin***_

Alduin was certainly surprised, having believed that the small mortal was not even able to speak in their tongue.

 _ ***Bein rot nol hin jot.***_ spoke Alduin before turning to the resurrected dragon _***Sahloknir, krii daar joorre.***_

Alduin flew away, leaving Harry and the others to face the newly resurrected Sahloknir, who rose from the ground and began to fly.

"Look out!" shouted Delphine as the dragon flew right above them.

"I am Sahloknir! Hear my voice and despair!" roared the greyish dragon _***Fo Krah Diin!***_

From its mouth came a great jet of ice, making the three run from Sahloknir's target zone. The shout had frozen the ground where it had made contact, large spikes and blocks of ice having formed just from the single shout. Harry turned to the dragon and used the Ice Blast spell against the dragon.

Delphine and Uthgerd were firing arrows at the flying dragon, some hitting it while the others simply missed. And while Harry had felt part of his magicka being depleted upon casting the spell, he continued to attack it with magic, now using fire balls. Sahloknir was certainly not liking the fact that the little mortals were causing actual harm towards him, but he could not help but admire their courage and persistence.

 _ ***Grik Ahkrin.***_ said the dragon _***Nunon hi fen mah.***_

Harry felt that his magicka was nearly depleted, and so it was time to try a new tactic. In fact, it was time to try something new. He looked at Sahloknir, and making sure of the dragon's position, Harry shouted.

 _ ***Fus Ro Dah!***_

His Voice was like thunder, and a great near-invisible wave of power came from his mouth, heading straight towards the dragon. Sahloknir felt Harry's Thu'um striking his very skin, and he knew that this mortal was clearly not to be trifled with. The fact that this one was able to use a full shout at a young age was a sign of this one's power, but of the truth as well.

"Your Voice is strong Dovahkiin." He declared "But it is no match for mine!"

The greyish dragon turned towards Harry, and stroke back the same way.

 _ ***Fus Ro Dah!***_

As much power Harry's Thu'um held, it was clearly not as powerful as Sahloknir's. In a quick move, the young Breton tapped into the last remnant of magicka that remained within him, and raised a shield around him. When the shout made contact with the shield, the area around Harry was blasted, creating a small crater near the burial mound. Uthgerd and Delphine, despite not being near the blast radius, were still brought down from the strength of the impact.

Under the shield, Harry felt the bull blow from his opponent's Thu'um, most of the impact being absorbed by the shield, yet still feeling as if a boulder had crashed on top of him. However, the impact was enough for him to lose control, and the shield dissipated in an instant, making the young Dragonborn lose balance and fall over.

Harry looked upward, Sahloknir's shadow above him.

"My lord Alduin requires your death." he stated "I am glad to oblige him."

Harry knew that he was in a vulnerable position, and if he did nothing…well, then he would certainly join his ancestors in Aetherius or he would be claimed by Lady Meridia. He had wasted his last drop of magicka, and he had no time to drink a potion or use a welkynd stone. Therefore, he now had to rely on…dirty tactics.

" _By Meridia, I will not die today!"_ he thought with resolve.

In a swift move, before the dragon could do anything else, Harry drew his wand, and used the conjunctivitis curse against the flying beast. The spell hit its target, and the dragon roared in pain as its eyelids became swollen and filled with a foreign irritation, something that the dragon had never experienced before. In this moment, Harry got away from the small crater, while taking out a potion of Greater Magicka from his bag.

He drank it quickly, feeling his magic reawakening again, and so he turned towards the dragon, who was not on the ground, its swollen eyes not allowing it to stand adrift. Drawing on his magicka once more, Harry made sure to concentrate, before releasing a powerful blast of lightning towards his distracted opponent, wounding him greatly, while fully draining his magicka once more. The wounds on the dragon were enough for him to approach it with Dawnbreaker, and much like he had done with Mirmulnir, Harry climbed the beast's throat, and plunged the sword on the dragon's head, making it roar in pain.

Harry removed the sword from the head, before plunging it on the dragon's throat for good measure. At this, it was clear that Sahloknir was ended, as the once living dragon slumped dead on the ground. Harry made sure to get away from it as possible, going towards Delphine and Uthgerd who had already recovered from the blast.

"You…you did it! That was…incredible!" said the female Breton, before turning towards the dead dragon "I've been wanting to take a closer look at one of these buggers. Come on, let's…wait…"

Delphine realized that the dragon had started to burn, its skin seemingly on fire for no apparent reason.

"Something's happening…gods above!"

But Harry and Uthgerd knew exactly what was happening, and Harry was far more than willing to absorb Sahloknir's soul. He watched as the flames from the dragon's body came towards him, engulfing his own, and as images and words flashed through his eyes and mind, the memories, knowledge and power of Sahloknir becoming his. And once more, all that remained of the dead dragon was a skeleton.

"So…it's true then. You really are Dragonborn. But I guess that I already had my answer when you showed me the Amulet. But now…it is truly confirmed." She declared "Now, I guess I owe you some answers, don't I?"

"I think so…?" Harry himself was not even sure "I mean, from what you told me, and what I know, the Blades' purpose if to look for and to protect the Dragonborn, something you inherited from the Dragonguard."

"Right. But now with the return of the a Dragonborn, and the fact that you are a descendant of Reman Cyrodiil, the purpose of the Blades is once more returned." she said "But we are descended from the Akaviri Dragonguard, and so their purpose also falls to us now, even if in a…unofficial way."

"To hunt the dragons." said Harry, knowing it from study and from what Delphine had told him previously "So…what now?"

"I guess we should go back to Riverwood." suggested Delphine "We need to discuss this in private, and this open area is not…appropriate."

Harry nodded, and as the three made way back to Riverwood, Harry made sure to drink a few health potions. Just for good measure.

* * *

 _ **Pocket Guide to the Story, 2**_ _ **nd**_ _ **Edition:**_

 **Hin mindol los voth nid vahzen, Alduin –** Literally translated as "Your thought is with no truth, Alduin". A "polished" translation would be "Your opinion is meaningless, Alduin".

 _ **Bein rot nol hin jot –**_ Translated as "Foul words from your mouth".

 _ **Grik Ahkrin. Nunon hi fen mah –**_ Translated as "Such courage! But you will fall".


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 22 – Return to Cyrodiil**_

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

The three had arrived safely at the Sleeping Giant Inn, not finding any more dragons on their way. The voyage had been silent, and they arrived to find the inn in its normal state, nothing out of the ordinary happening. Delphine made sure for them to enter the secret room as quickly as they could, closing the false panel behind them. As soon as they entered, Harry and Uthgerd sat down, a bit tired from the voyage and the battle against Sahloknir.

"So…what now?" asked Harry "We did discover who is behind the resurrection of the dragons, and we managed to kill another one. So…what's our next move?"

"Honestly, I myself am not sure." Admitted Delphine "But I'm more curious about what the dragons in Kynesgrove said. You certainly seemed to understand their language."

Uthgerd looked at Harry, rather curious herself.

"The one we fought, was called Sahloknir. I think I saw his name once, in a book inside the library of the White-Gold Tower, but I'm not sure." he said "But the other one…it confuses me."

"What does?" asked Delphine.

"The black dragon we saw in Kynesgrove was the same one that attacked Helgen, when Ulfric Stormcloak was supposed to be executed." he revealed "But that is not what confuses me. No, it is the fact that that dragon is none other than Alduin, the Dragon God of Time."

"Dragon God of Time? But that is the domain of Akatosh." stated Delphine.

"It's more than that. While Imperial scholars believe Akatosh and Alduin to be the same entity, they are not." claimed Harry, having his own theories and beliefs about the Aurbis from his years of education in the Imperial City "They are as separate as Auriel and Akatosh after the Selectives danced atop the Tower. But that's a different thing, and it doesn't matter right now. How versed are you on the Nordic pantheon?"

"Not much, I'm afraid." said Delphine "I came here to Skyrim as a refugee, as such I'm not very familiar with the local culture."

"As Akatosh is the God of Time to the races of men and Auriel is his Aldmeri equivalent, Alduin is the Nordic God of Time." explained Harry "Unlike those two, however, Alduin is also portrayed as the destroyer of time, known as the World-Eater."

"World-Eater? Isn't that a bit…exaggerated?" asked Delphine "I mean, he was intimidating, but I don't see how exactly that dragon could eat the entire world."

"Normally, I would disagree with that, but even I have to admit that for a World-Eater, Alduin was rather small." replied Harry "But there is no denying it. Even the knowledge I gained from absorbing the dragon souls confirms it. That dragon was Alduin, the World-Eater and God of Time."

"God or not, it still doesn't make sense." Declared Delphine "Why in Oblivion did he suddenly appear and began to revive the dragons?"

"Don't ask me. I have no idea." said Harry "Still, I do think that we should figure out how this was all caused. Any ideas?"

Delphine remained silent for a moment, thinking about anything that could help them.

"What about the Thalmor?" suggested Uthgerd.

"The Thalmor?" questioned Harry "Why would the Thalmor be involved?"

But it seemed that to Delphine, Uthgerd's suggestion was perhaps their best chance at progress.

"That…that may be a good idea." mumbled the female Breton.

Harry looked at Delphine, wondering what exactly the woman was plotting.

"Erm, Delphine…what are you planning?"

The woman remained silent, her facial expressions constantly shifting.

"We are not exactly at the best of conditions to actually make a professional observation regarding the dragons, but the Thalmor can." she said "If there is anyone who knows something about the dragons, even if just the smallest bit of information, it has to be them."

"Ok, and how exactly are you planning to get that information from them?" he asked.

"That's the hard part, since they most likely hoard all information inside their embassy." she admitted "This is not something that can be done in a single day, and we need to figure out the best opportunity to act."

"So what are we going to do?" he asked.

"I will remain here in the inn, continuing my life as innkeeper. However, I shall also make contact with a few associates of mine." she said "You should also do the same, continue with your normal life and gather possible ways of breaking into the Thalmor Embassy without causing much chaos."

"I'll see what I can do, then." said Harry, as he and Uthgerd got up "But now I have to return to Cyrodiil. There are things I need to solve with the Elder Council."

Delphine nodded, but before Harry could leave, she called him.

"Wait, before you go." he called "There is something we need to do. And I'll try to make this as formal and quick as possible."

"Huh? What exactly?" asked Harry confused.

"While the White-Gold Concordat officially dissolved the Blades, we still exist, despite our small size." She declared "I may even be the last living member of the Blades, and for that reason, I am for all intents and purposes the current acting Grandmaster. But the Blades have found a new Dragonborn, the true heir of Reman, and therefore our loyalty passes onto the restored line of the Cyrodilic dragonblood."

Delphine took out her Akaviri katana, and knelt down before Harry, plunging her sword into the wooden floor of the basement. Harry's eyes widened in surprise, not expecting this to happen.

"Under the eyes of the gods and in the name of the Blades, I, Delphine, acting Grandmaster of the Blades, do pledge the Order to the service and protection of you, Reman Cyrodiil, Dragonborn and keeper of the Amulet of Kings, as well as the protection of your descendants with our lives."

" _This was unexpected."_ thought the young Breton.

Delphine rose, and sheathed the weapon, noticing the looks of confusion and surprise on the faces of Harry and Uthgerd.

"As I said, this was a mere formality." Said Delphine "But the Blades, no matter how small we may currently be, are now sworn to your service and protection. If the order manages to rebuild, then perhaps we can return truly to our task of protecting the Dragonborn, but this will have to do for now."

"Thanks…I guess." replied Harry.

"Think nothing of it." Said the female Breton "Now, I guess we should return to our normal roles. There is much to be done."

Harry nodded in agreement, thinking to himself that indeed, there would be much work to be done.

* * *

Upon leaving the Sleeping Giant Inn, Harry and Uthgerd made way to Whiterun. Since harry was travelling to Cyrodiil on official business, Uthgerd had suggested that she remained on Skyrim, so that Harry could work quickly there. The young Breton warned Uthgerd that he doubted that he would just spend a single day in the Imperial Province, but the woman still insisted on remaining behind. Once Uthgerd and Harry and Uthgerd had reached Whiterun, the woman's first stop was the Bannered Mare, while Harry made way to the outer walls of the city.

With the broom on his hand, Harry flew to a high altitude, and went towards Cyrodiil, more specifically towards Sancre Tor, where he would spend what remained of the current day.

* * *

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

While it had been once a city, with the years Sancre Tor had been reduced to a mere ruin, the only thing still standing being a few remnants of the walls and a crumbling tower with access to the catacombs. But Harry had recovered the city from Cyrodiil's wilderness, plans of reconstruction on his mind. The years that Harry spent on Cyrodiil before travelling to Skyrim on Titus Mede's orders were not just spent in the Imperial City or in Chorrol, but the young Breton had travelled across the Province, and had visited High Rock as well.

Harry's view of a restored Sancre Tor had been influenced by both Colovian and Ayleid architecture. And for that, he had hired some of Tamriel's most renowned architects, working closely with them so that whatever they conjured would be what he wanted for his city to become.

He did not want a simple castle or fort, much like the counties of Cyrodiil had. No, what he wanted was a more dignified residence, something akin to a small palace. Sharog gra-Mughol had been responsible for the basic reconstruction of the inner fortress of Sancre Tor, but what she had done was merely the first stone in would become Sancre Tor. Amongst the other architects were Orcs, Bretons, Altmer and Imperials, all of them working together, and bringing Harry's vision into reality.

Already was the small underfortress designed by Sharog engulfed by a larger complex, which despite not being yet fully complete, was already inhabitable and transmitted much of what Harry wanted. The architects called it the "Golden Palace" in their plans, referring to the other name that the legendary city had. The name itself was a lie, for the building had nothing of golden on it. In fact, due to the Ayleid style, and the usage of their blue glass, it would have been more appropriate to call it the "Blue Palace", although that name had already been taken. As such, Harry favoured the name of "Palace of the Golden Hill", thinking it to be more in tune with the location itself.

Harry had worked closely with the Orcs since he had wanted for a pipe organ to be featured in his residence. On Nirn, the Orsimer had been the inventors of the "King of Instruments", which had become rather popular amongst the clergy and aristocracy of Cyrodiil and High Rock after the end of the Third Era. And within the small palace was the only entrance into the vaults below, where the tombs of the Dragonguard, as well of the Alessian and Reman emperors were. When he finally died, it was here that Harry wanted to be entombed.

But the palace was not just the other building of importance in Sancre Tor. Another project of his, was the construction of a grand temple, dedicated to the worship of his ancestor, Reman, "the Worldly God", and his mother Al-Esh, who had consorted with King Hrol as a hill rock, giving birth to Reman nine months after. It was designed to be far greater than the Great Chapels of the Eight Divines in the main cities of Cyrodiil, and to even dwarf the Temple of the One in the Imperial City. Much like the palace, it was a mixture of Highlander Colovian and Ayleid, and to Harry's delight, it was near completion. The rest of Sancre Tor was already filled with some habitations and there was an inn in the restored city, but there was still a long way to go so that he could return it to a far more respectful state. What Tiber Septim could not do, he would certainly do it.

However, while the palace was not fully furnished, and only the essential furniture was available, Harry was able to spend the night there, peacefully and in a comfortable manner.

* * *

When the morning had arrived, and Harry made sure to meet with his steward, an Imperial called Amantius Dion, who hailed from the city of Skingrad. The old man made sure to oversee the city on Harry's absence, and even when he was there, so the young Cyrodiil was mostly absent from the micromanagement of Sancre Tor, that task falling on Dion and his subordinates. He had ordered the old man to send a letter to the High Chancellor, informing him of Harry's arrival. Tharn needed to know that Harry had arrived, so that the procedures regarding the Order of the Lamp could…well, proceed.

It was late afternoon when Abnur Tharn had arrived at Sancre Tor, and even he had been amazed by the not yet completed structures that Harry had envisioned. And while he had little love for Colovia, Abnur Tharn could not help but admire what the Viscount was trying to create. Nevertheless, he was here for a reason, and as soon as he could get this done, the better. He was guided to the palace by a group of guards, Harry awaiting him at the entry hall.

"Viscount Cyrodiil, I see that you have not abandoned your extravagant ideas." said Tharn upon approaching Harry "I admit I am surprised over you actually making them reality."

"Well, I do what I can." Replied Harry "Besides, this place needed to be tidied up a bit."

"Quite so, but we are here to do business, not to chat about your personal and financial feats." Said the High Chancellor "The Elder Council has decided in Diet that the Order of the Lamp shall be restored, and we also have the support of the Mages Guild. The Emperor and your Arch-Mage have both agreed that the leadership of the Order shall fall onto you."

"What!?" nearly hissed Harry in shock "Why me? I simply issued the petition!"

"If you were chosen by both the Emperor and the Arch-Mage of your guild, then I am certain it was for a good reason. And perhaps, it is one more test for you?" suggested Tharn, in a tone that itself suggested mockery "Regardless, after tomorrow, you are to be present in the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor will officially restore the Lamp Knights and appoint you as their leader."

Harry groaned internally, as having the Lamp Knights under his command would bring more work to his hands. Perhaps he should place someone overseeing the Order under his command? Maybe that would be for the best, as right now he had to deal not just with Stormcloak and his rebellion, but also with Alduin and the possible resurrection of Mannimarco.

"Very well, then." Declared Harry "I shall be there."

"Good." replied Abnur Tharn "Do not be late. The ceremony will be at midday."

Harry nodded, and watched as Abnur Tharn recalled himself back to the Imperial City, disappearing in less than a second. Harry left the entrance hall, and made way to his study, needing to prepare himself for the ceremony. He needed to be presentable, and so he had to make sure that he did not look like a commoner who was pretending to be a noble. His very existence was a mixture, for in race he was a Breton, in blood he was Colovian, yet in culture he was regarded as Nibenese. Therefore, when in formal affairs, he would go with Nibenese garments, with a hint of Colovian just for good measure. Nevertheless, he still had one more day to prepare himself, so he would make sure that the time he had left until the ceremony was well spent.

* * *

 **Imperial City, Heartlands, Cyrodiil**

Built on the main and central island of the Rumare Lake, surrounded by a magnificent and large circular wall, and under a cloudless sky was the White-Gold Tower. Dwarfing many built structures in Tamriel, even that of the Adamantine Tower, the White-Gold Tower was surrounded by eight smaller towers in the Imperial City, a representation of the Aurbis made by the Ayleids. To many people, it was merely a normal day, but to those who were allowed into the palace district, they knew that a ceremony was about to take place inside the Imperial Palace. The influx of nobility from Tamriel was possibly one of the many reasons, and many of the citizens who were somewhat aware of the possibility of a ceremony came to believe that their presence was only to use the situation as a way to get closer to the Emperor and the highest elite of the Empire.

The entire Elder Council was present, alongside the Arch-Mage of the Mages Guild and the Council of Mages. Religious figures were present as well, amongst them the Arch-Prelate of Arkay, who had come to give the Blessing of Arkay to the Lamp Knights, as well as others, such as the Archbishop of the Temple of the One and the Patriarch of the Cult of Reman.

When Harry had arrived in the Palace District, he was escorted by the Palace Guard to the Throne Room, where the emperor and the guests were waiting. Harry entered the White-Gold Tower, dressed in a mixture of ebony armour and a moderate amount of noble clothing, creating a rather efficient and simple contrast between the two different types of attire. Knowing how the ceremony was supposed to proceed, Harry moved to approach the Ruby Throne, and stopped when he was at a safe distance of the staircase. Sitting there was Titus Mede II, who rose from the throne and descended towards the young Viscount.

"It is clearly demonstrated that, with the rise of the infamous practice of the magical art known as Necromancy, as well as the revival of the Order of the Black Worm, whose existence has caused much injury to the Empire in the past, the Empire and its intuitions cannot remain defenceless against this threat." declared the emperor "On this matter, the Elder Council has worked closely with the Mages Guild, which has been a firm opponent of the Worm Cult, and the two have decided that in order to fight this threat, the ancient Order of the Lamp needs to be revived as well."

Rather low, yet audible whispers filled the throne room.

"Therefore, as discussed upon the last Diet of the Elder Council, the Order of the Lamp has been restored under the name of Order of the Knights of the Lamp, as a military order dedicated not only to the protection of the Mages Guild, but also of the people of Tamriel." stated Titus Mede II, before turning directly to Harry "Viscount Cyrodiil, approach."

Harry did so, coming close to the Emperor.

"In unanimous agreement, the Council of Mages and I have decided to grand the leadership of the Order to you." he said "Do you accept this responsibility, and if so, are you prepared to take an oath of allegiance to your emperor and this Empire once more?"

Harry took a deep breath, before giving his answer.

"I am, your Majesty." said the young Breton.

"Then, do you, Henry Reman Cyrodiil, swear upon your honour to be faithful to the Eight, and to give true allegiance to your emperor, Titus Mede II, and his heirs and successors?"

"I, Henry Reman Cyrodiil, do swear upon my honour that I will be faithful to the Eight and bear true allegiance to His Majesty, Emperor Titus Mede II, his heirs and successors."

"Do you swear to dedicate yourself and the Order to the protection of this Empire and her people?"

"I do swear."

Titus Mede nodded, and motioned for two men to approach. One held a pillow on his hand, with something there that Harry could not exactly see, while the other carried a sword. From its design, Harry could see that it was an ebony sword, as well from the elaborate golden patterns in the black material. Harry's proficiency with magicka allowed him to see that the sword was enchanted, but he didn't know what the enchantment was.

The emperor took a golden chain from the small pillow, a Collar that represented his new office. Its badge was the symbol of the Mages Guild made in silver, which was inside a golden star. The emperor placed the Collar around Harry's neck. The other man gave the sword to Titus Mede, who in turn gave it to Harry.

"Let it be known that you, Henry Cyrodiil, are now Grand Master of the Order of the Knights of the Lamp." declared the emperor.

Harry nodded, and thanked the Emperor, before the Arch-Prelate of Arkay approached the two.

"Your Majesty, and your Illustrious Highness, "began the Arch-Prelate, addressing to the two "I would ask for permission to grant the blessing of Arkay to the Order."

"I believe it is only fitting, isn't it so?" asked Titus.

"Indeed, your Majesty." replied Harry, before turning to the Arch-Prelate "If you so wish, then you may do so."

The aged man, thanked the two, and gave his blessing to Harry and the Order, telling him that the God of Life and Death would guide their Order to victory against its enemies, and those of Tamriel. The following minutes were spent with many of the guests congratulating Harry and chatting a bit with each other. However, a few minutes after, Harry was approached by Abnur Tharn, who told him that the Emperor wished to speak with him in the same room where the three had been before Harry's departure to Skyrim.

Wondering exactly what the Emperor wanted, Harry followed the High Chancellor discretely, the other people in the throne room not even taking note of their absence.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

Apparently, in Daggerfall there were a lot of pipe organs inside a single room in Orsinium.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 23 – The Emperor and the Arch-Mage**_

 **Imperial City, Heartlands, Cyrodiil**

Harry entered the small chamber, the Emperor already inside. The room was illuminated by a torch in the wall, and as soon as Harry entered, Abnur Tharn followed suit. The High Chancellor closed the door behind them, and the Emperor motioned for the two to sit down. As Harry sat down, he noticed that the Emperor seemed…older. It was something that he had not noticed during the ceremony, but perhaps it was the dim lighting that allowed him to perceive.

"Your majesty?" asked Harry.

"I received a report from General Tullius." said the emperor after a moment of silence "According to him, the situation in Skyrim is favourable towards us."

"The rebellion is weak. They have little to no organization, and Ulfric' allies are not very useful." replied Harry "The holds of Dawnstar and Winterhold are but frozen wastelands, the little resources they had coming from the other holds. Since the civil war started, all their resources were cut off, and the little they have comes from Windhelm. In a realistic point of view, the only thing of true worth up there is the College of Winterhold."

"The Nords have an unnatural aversion to magic." said Tharn "One of their many cultural weaknesses."

"The sooner this rebellion is over, the better." spoke Titus "The people of Skyrim should not suffer for the allegiance of their leaders. And regarding the sudden appearance of a dragon in the northern province?"

"Oh, that. The dragon issue is also under…investigation." stated Harry.

One of Mede's eyebrows was raised.

"Is that so?" asked the man "I suppose that this…investigation is being done by none other than yourself, would I be correct?"

"You would, your majesty." answered Harry calmly "Don't worry, though. I'm not acting alone."

"Assuming you do the job well, I won't pry on your actions." said the emperor "But don't you think that it is a bit much for you?"

"A bit much?"

"The regency of Skyrim, the threat of the dragons and the leadership of the Lamp Knights against the Worm Cult." clarified Titus Mede "I am aware of your skills and perseverance, but isn't it a bit much for you?"

"If I acted alone, then yes, it would be." declared Harry "But I share the regency of Skyrim with General Tullius, and the Lamp Knights have, or at least will have, a self-sustaining structure, capable of operating without my constant presence."

"And the dragons?" asked Abnur.

"That…that is not the most 'stable' of things right now." admitted Harry "But my associates and I are working on it."

Titus nodded.

"Good, young one. You may go now." Said the emperor "Do succeed in your endeavours, and bring glory to you and to the Empire."

Harry got up from his chair, and moved towards the door.

"Farewell, your majesty." Said Harry, before looking at Tharn "High Chancellor."

The other man nodded, and the two watched as Harry left the room, before closing the door behind him.

"Why do have the feeling that his 'associates' are the remnants of the Blades?" asked Titus.

To which Abnur answered.

"That is because they probably are."

* * *

As Harry entered the enormous throne room, he saw that there were still people inside, although some had left the tower, and were seemingly in the gardens. As he made way to the outside, Harry was suddenly approached by a Altmer which he recognized as the Arch-Mage of the Mages Guild. Quite interestingly, she had been a member of the original Mages Guild before its collapse, and like many of its mages, she had gone to become part of one of the splinter factions that emerged shortly after the event.

But she, like many others, had become unhappy with how these factions worked. And so, a few decades ago, it was Carahil, the former head of the Mages Guild hall in Anvil, who reformed the Mages Guild, and became its new Arch-Mage, deciding to adopt Skingrad as the city which would serve as the guild's new headquarters. Her hatred for necromancy was still strong, but even she had to recognize that the prohibition of its study by Hannibal Traven was the main cause of the Guild's collapse at the end of the Third Era. She reluctantly allowed its study and limited practice within guild rules, but nothing more than that.

"Greetings Warlock Henry." said Carahil.

"Good morning Arch-Mage." replied Harry "Are you well?"

"As well as my age allows it." said the Altmer "I congratulate you for your achievement here. The restoration of the Order of the Lamp brings the guild one step closer to its former status in Cyrodiil, and your stance against Necromancy is admirable. Many of your age would prefer to dabble in the dark arts instead of standing against them. I trait which I most admire in mages."

"Thank you, Arch-Mage." responded Harry, keeping his tone formal.

"When the Emperor and I decided to grant you the leadership of the reformed order, it was so in light of your achievements here in Cyrodiil, but most importantly, due to your actions in Skyrim as well." explained Carahil "Your skill with magic is high, a common occurrence for someone of your race. But not even that is enough for your body to become fully attuned to magicka yet. Your age does not allow it, and I assume you have been told this before. Am I correct?"

"Yes, Arch-Mage." replied Harry "Master-Wizard Lloran told me that when I became a Conjurer within the Guild. Although later I was given a more detailed and…academic explanation in the Arcane University."

Carahil nodded.

"Regardless, the guild has restrictions on the ranks given to its members, age included." She said "But the age restriction no longer applies to you. And your skill and knowledge in the schools of magic and other topics is exceptionally high. The thesis you made in the Arcane University about the structure and metaphysics of the Aurbis, as well as you being able to communicate using the Dreamsleeve are certainly noteworthy feats. Once more, I can say that most people of your age would be more interested in other things, such as the workings of the schools of destruction and conjuration."

"It was a mere theory, Arch-Mage." spoke Harry "And my workings with the Dreamsleeve were made with careful experimentation. I began working with that shortly after my arrival in Chorrol, and it was not something that I managed to achieve immediately. I can't even maintain proper security protocols without Divayth Fyr intercepting the transmissions."

"Yes…the Elder Council informed me about the transmission and the interceptors. It is no surprise, though. Divayth Fyr eclipses even the most powerful Altmer mage in both power and knowledge, and Savos Aren is also a powerful mage, although not as powerful as Fyr." stated Carahil "Still, your theory was far more understandable and with more arguments than the ramblings of certain madmen who speak about them as well. Also, your skill and dedication to the guild has proven me correct about you. Your actions in funding the guild had caught my attention before, and I kept a close eye on you. A good choice on my part, as it has been proven that you are one of the most skilled and knowledgeable members that the guild accepted in the last few years."

Inside, Harry smiled at the praise, enjoying the fact that the Arch-Mage had recognized his potential.

"For such reason, I am bypassing the usual procedure, and promoting you to the rank of Master-Wizard." declared Carahil "It is only appropriate, not just because of your skill, but also due to your new position as the Grand Master of the Lamp Knights. As the guild currently has an agreement of sorts with the Arcane University, then they shall also recognize your new rank within the guild."

Harry was stunned with the Arch-Mage's action. He could not believe that he had been promoted to the second highest position in the Mages Guild, a rank that was only granted to the most renowned and skilled mages within the guild.

"I…I…thank you, Arch-Mage Carahil." finally spoke Harry.

"Don't thank me, fellow magister. Simply make sure that you continue to deserve the rank." said the Altmer "Now, I must depart to Skingrad, as there are guild issues that I must attend to. Farewell, Master-Wizard."

Harry snapped out of his stupor, and nodded.

"Farewell, Arch-Mage." replied the young Breton.

Carahil simply used the Recall spell, and Harry watched as she disappeared in front of him. He made sure to move as well, as he had also business to attend to. Before returning to Skyrim, he had to fully establish the Lamp Knights presence in Cyrodiil. And to do so, he first had to return to Sancre Tor, and it would be there that the Order of the Lamp would have its headquarters.

* * *

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

As soon as he had returned to Sancre Tor, Harry's first action was to speak with his steward regarding the future administration of the Order of the Lamp. The Guild Halls in all of the cities knew that the Order was recruiting new members who were capable of both melee and magical combat, and the Order had a partnership with both the Imperial Legion and the Shadow Legion, as it was a great necessity. The running of the order was the main problem, but Harry soon invited Dion to serve as the Chancellor of the Order, who accepted the offer.

The old man did his tasks well enough, and Harry was satisfied with that. He had also placed him in charge of finding more people who could become part of the administrative body of the Lamp Knights. It was rather tiring for him to deal with all the aspects of the Order, but he was certain that eventually, things would become stable enough. But it worried Harry, as the Lamp Knights needed to become a large enough force so that they could stand against the Worm Cult, which gained more power with each passing moment. Not to mention that he still had to deal with the dragons and the civil war in Skyrim as well.

During the first week he spent in the palace, he received visits from people who wanted to join the Order, both young and old. He made sure to know what the skills of them all, before accepting them into the Order. Many had known about the threat presented by the Worm Cult, and were more than willing to take up arms in order to stop their foul plot. Others had seen what was happening to the entirety of the magical based organizations in Cyrodiil, and the rapid ascension of the Mages Guild, and despite not wanting to associate fully with the Guild, they decided that turning to the Order of the Lamp was a good alternative. Amongst these were veterans from the Great War, experienced people who knew how to fight, and so Harry had no problem with accepting them. There was also the occasional Imperial Battlemage, experts in both melee and magical combat, and these were possible the most valuable asset that the Knights could obtain.

All these people were united under a single desire and objective: the utter destruction of Mannimarco and his Order of the Black Worm. And at the end of the second week, Harry finally realized how much the Order had grown. It was then that he decided to organize them fully, dividing the members into cells. Each cell would be led by a Knight-Commander, who would be in charge of their respective knights and other low ranked members. It was a simple hierarchy, but there were also the other more…bureaucratic ranks, and Harry thought that those were the ones who gave him more headaches than the military ranks.

Still, Harry wanted to make sure that everything was organized and stable, as he had to return to Skyrim, and many of the cells would travel with him there, and then they would begin to investigate the Worm Cult, their objective being a single one that all of the Empire was counting on them for. The utter annihilation of Mannimarco's influence on Nirn was their main goal, and Harry was going to make sure it happened, for even though he was loyal to the Empire and the Mages Guild, there was one other who had his loyalty.

As the champion of Meridia, he would make sure that the Lady of Infinite Energies would not be disappointed with him.


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 24 – Return to the Old World**_

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

Harry walked outside the palace, observing the construction of the enormous building. He wanted to make sure that things were going smoothly before returning to Skyrim, yet the young Cyrodiil was distracted by the sudden appearance of one of the mages that had been assisting him with the malfunctioning portal.

"Magister Cyrodiil, our work with the portal is complete," he informed. "Our analysis has deemed that the rift has been healed and you may now use it once more."

Harry's eyes glinted in excitement. "Really! Those are tremendous news!" said the Viscount. "But are you certain of it? A fissure in the Aurbis is the last thing I want to cause."

The man nodded. "We are certain of it, magister."

Well…it seems it was time to make a visit to his homeworld. And if his and the mages calculations had been correct, then the time dissonance would be corrected as soon as the two…realities were connected, their timelines stabilizing. If what they discovered was correct, then the presence of the Amulet of Kings in the Aurbis made it so that only the Aurbis was experiencing the normal passage of time, and if one was to look through a window at Harry's original universe, they would see things moving in slow motion. Yet it would be something that its inhabitants would not notice.

Harry's hand moved to touch the amulet, before looking back at the mage. "Let's go then," he said. "The portal will be activated once more."

* * *

Once inside the vaults of old Sancre Tor, Harry stood in the company of the mages and a group of guards. They all made sure to stand away from the centre of the room, not exactly wanting to stand near the portal's apparition point.

Harry approached the Daedric runes on the chamber's floor, and with his left hand touching the Chim-El Adabal, while his right one was holding the journal of Juilek, Harry began to read the activation phrase.

"Av Tamri-El dellevoy an Arpen Aran tarnabye!"

The people watched as the amulet's gem glowed simultaneously with the Daedric runes, followed by a blast of energy and the apparition of a bluish wave of…something above said runes. Unlike last time, there had been no sphere, and the wave of energy remained constant, allowing Harry to see distorted images within it.

Those present looked at it mesmerized, and even Harry was stunned by the portal he had opened. A few seconds later the young mage took a deep breath, his eyes utterly focused on the portal to Earth.

"It's time to move." He declared "All of you, follow me."

And so they did, following the last of the Cyrodiils into a world completely alien to them.

* * *

 **Fort Reman, Scotland (U.K.)**

Harry and the others arrived at the chamber beneath the tombs, and while the portal emitted a certain amount of light, Harry and other mages still conjured a few glowing balls of light. The portal behind them remained opened, which meant that the experiment had been a success.

"Where are we?" asked one of the guards.

"These are the catacombs of Fort Reman, in the country of Scotland," he explained. "This place is utterly empty of life and unlife. Well, at least it was the last time I came here."

He turned around, looking at one of the guards. "You, go back and ask one of them how much time has passed since we felt."

The man nodded and entered the portal, returning a few seconds later. "Just a few seconds, Your Lordship."

"Then we were successful. Well then, let's move forward." Said Harry as he entered the corridor which led into the staircase, which was opened.

Once they were all in the wide cave with the tombs of his ancestors, the guards and the mages began to look at the sarcophagi with curiosity. At least until Harry began to speak.

"Everyone, listen now! We stand now in the main section of the catacombs of Fort Reman. Behind me is a corridor which will leads into the upper section of the Fort, and after that only the exterior with the ruins." He declared "Establish a base here, and make use of the portal down there to bring materials from Sancre Tor. But make sure that you don't go beyond the ruins of the Fort, as I don't want attention to be brought to this place. The natives of this land can be very…unstable around certain things, and if they find about the portal…well, let's just say it would mean disaster to Tamriel. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Viscount Cyrodiil!" was the collective reply.

"Good. Once we are outside, I will go to a place I know for a while," said Harry "Don't worry of I take too long. I'll have to meet with a few people I know."

* * *

 **Cadfield House, Hogsmeade, Scotland (U.K.)**

Thanks to his broom, the voyage towards his grandfather's house had been quick, yet there was two thoughts on Harry's mind that troubled him. What would be his grandfather's reaction upon seeing him and how much time had passed since he had been thrown into the Arena. Those thoughts remained on his mind even as he landed right before the entrance to the manor.

Looking at the old wooden door and the key on his hand, Harry took a deep breath and opened it, entering a hall that was much familiar to him. Nothing much had changed since the last time he had been there and he began to wonder where his grandfather was. As he entered the living room he found it empty, although it had been clear that someone had been there not long ago.

He looked around, noticing that the portraits were asleep or in another frame, and the newly made Master-Wizard was startled as he heard the sudden footsteps of someone entering the room.

"Harry."

He turned around, and there was his grandfather, dressed in his favourite bathrobe and looking at him as if he saw a ghost.

"You…you're back!" said the old man in a hushed tone as he approached his grandson. "But…why are you…older? Did…did you drink an ageing potion?"

"No." His reply was soft, and he moved quickly as he went to hug the old man, stunning him.

"Harry, what - ?"

Harry continued to hug the old man and eventually Fleamont surrendered to Harry's unusual show of affection. What exactly had happened to him?

After a few seconds, Harry let go having clear smile on his face which was quickly replaced by a confused expression.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked.

Fleamont showed him his Signet Ring. "It warned me of your arrival," explained the Potter patriarch. "Now, I want you to tell me what exactly happened in that Fort, where were you ended up."

Harry sat down in one of the sofas as his grandfather did the same. "That ritual was performed in the wrong way. I was transported to Tamriel but it caused a rupture between the two realities," revealed Harry. "While time continued to flow normally in Tamriel, it was slowed down here, although I don't know how much. How long have I been away?"

"Not even half a year," said Fleamont. "Your brother returned to school a few weeks ago. How long has it been for you?"

Harry scratched his head. "A few years, I suppose." He said "I'm already eighteen years old though, which means that the whole underage magic thing no longer applies to me."

' _Not that it stopped me from using it in Tamriel,'_ he thought before looking back at Fleamont. "I guess you want the full story then?"

"Indeed," replied the Earl of Cadfield. "Do start from the beginning, if you don't mind."

"Well, after the portal opened I ended up in the vaults of Sancre Tor, and after that I…"

* * *

 **Hogwarts School, Cadfield, Scotland (U.K.)**

If there was one thing Dumbledore was completely unknowledgeable about, it had to be the existence of other realities other than his own. It was simply not something that many wizards thought about and was mostly a theory that muggles sometimes liked to debate. So, when Lily, James and his father Fleamont had come to him after the disappearance of Harry Potter, there had been nothing that Dumbledore could do.

The old wizard knew how prideful Fleamont was, and for the Potter patriarch to come to him for assistance…it only meant that it was something that not even his ego could suppress. Unfortunately for them, he could do nothing to attempt to recover the young Potter. It was simply out of his reach, and even that was a blow to his own ego – not to know something and how to solve it.

So, when he saw Fleamont's owl enter his office and holding a letter, he began to wonder if there had been any development with the whole Harry's issue. He took the letter and opened it, and upon reading its contents Dumbledore could only sigh in relief. Harry Potter had returned, yet according to Fleamont he was…much different. He had aged a few years, and it was not under the effect of an Ageing potion.

He was also requesting James and Lily's presence in the Cadfield Manor, and Albus was rather willing to let the two teachers go there to meet with their returned son. He knew that James and Lily were not as close to Harry as they were with their eldest child, especially considering that he had been raised by Fleamont, but they still loved him nonetheless. And, from what he knew, Harry shared the same relation with his parents and brother.

But there was something that was bothering him, and it was his own curiosity. From what Fleamont had told him, Harry had been sent to another reality, and now he wanted to know exactly how the place where Harry had been was like. He took out a piece of parchment, and wrote his reply to Fleamont, giving it to the owl and sending it away.

He could only hope that the old Potter would allow him to speak to Harry. He just needed to know how Tamriel was like.

His curiosity demanded it!


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer** : Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 25 – The Three Professors**_

 **Cadfield Manor, Hogsmeade, Scotland (U.K.)**

Harry was inside the Portrait Room of the manor, speaking with his ancestors and telling them what had happened after his disappearance. As he spoke, Harry heard his grandfather entering the room, now dressed in proper clothes and holding a letter on his hand.

"I've received a reply from Dumbledore," he said. "He says that he gave your parents authorization for them to come. Yet he also wants to know if he can accompany them as well. It seems that he is quite curious about your adventures in Tamriel."

Harry shrugged. "I don't see why not," he replied. "Let him come."

"The choice is yours," stated Fleamont as he left the room, allowing Harry to resume his conversation with the portraits.

* * *

 **Hogwarts School, Hogsmeade, Scotland (U.K.)**

The great hall was filled with many students, amongst them Michael Potter, Harry's older twin. The fourteen-year-old teenager was in the company of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and would be also in the company of his brother had he not disappeared. While Ron and Hermione were often bickering with each other, Harry had always been the calm one, except in certain situations where he lost his composure.

It had been an unfortunate development in their second year, when Harry had been revealed to be a parselmouth and most of the school had believed him to be the heir of Slytherin, although it didn't make any sense. What people were unaware of, except for Ron and Hermione, was that he himself also possessed the same ability as his brother did, but kept it a secret out of fear.

He had seen how Hogwarts had treated his brother during their second year, and many times Harry had almost struck back at those that thought it to be a good idea to harass him. But what was worse, was the fact that many of the whispers amongst the students of Hogwarts were about people wondering why he hadn't stopped his brother yet, and when he would do so.

Eventually, everything changed when Harry was found petrified two days after Hermione had been petrified as well, and much like her, the younger twin had also a mirror on his hand. It was then that the whole school realized their mistake, and the one they thought to be the aggressor was nothing more than another victim. It had been horrible to see Harry in that state, with a terrified look on his face and his skin pale as if he had died. Thankfully Harry, Hermione and the others were cured of their condition, and the Basilisk who had been petrifying the students was killed, by none other than himself. A feat that Michael would never forget…and neither would his arm.

In any case, Harry's absence was rather… unsettling to the young Potter.

But his curiosity was soon reignited as his father came into the Great Hall, looking somewhat relived.

" _Perhaps they found him?"_ wondered Michael, as his father approached.

"Dad, did something happen?" asked the young Potter.

"Yes. Dumbledore just received a letter from your grandfather," said James. "It seems that your brother has returned."

"Really?" said Michael excitedly. "Is he in the manor?"

James nodded. "Yes, but…from what the letter said, it seems that your brother has changed..." said the older Potter. "But there's no doubt that he is Harry. The Cadfield signet ring has confirmed his identity."

Now Michael was both confused and curious.

"Changed? What…what changed in him?"

"When you meet him again, you will see for yourself," replied James. "Actually, your mother and I are going to your grandfather's house right now. And you will stay here Hogwarts, so don't try to convince us to take you to the manor."

Michael scowled and rolled his eyes.

"Fine," said the young Potter, resigned to their decision.

"I have to go now. Your mother is waiting and you know how she gets if she has to wait for a long time. I'll see you in a few hours son."

"Bye dad."

And as James Potter left the Great Hall, the oldest of the Potter twins realized that Ron and Hermione were arguing about Hermione's little House-Elf project. And so, Michael could not help but groan in irritation, a single thought on his mind.

" _I swear that one day these two will get married."_

* * *

 **Cadfield Manor, Hogsmeade, Scotland (U.K.)**

Harry sat on the library of the manor, reading the twenty-first sermon of the _36 Lessons of Vivec_ repeatedly. When he first read the entire collection, Harry was not sure of what to think about it. But as the years passed and his knowledge regarding the Aurbis and all within it expanded, he came to notice that there was something special about the Lessons of Vivec. Special and strange, for it almost resembled a message of sorts, and not the one that most people conveyed when they read the Lessons.

There was a reason he was acknowledged as one of the most knowledgeable mages in the Mages Guild, especially for his relatively young age. The fact that the Amulet of Kings also advised him on certain matters also helped on his quest for knowledge. Yet this trait of Harry had not been enough to get him sorted into Ravenclaw.

Harry was distracted from his reading when he heard the door of the library being opened. Closing his book, Harry rose from the chair and faced the newcomers. To Harry nothing had changed regarding the looks of his parents and Dumbledore, but to those three, Harry had changed, and not just a little.

Gone was the young boy who had a strong resemblance towards his father, replaced by a young man whose similarity with James had been very subdued. The similarities were still there, yet they had been diminished. One could say that Harry had ceased to be a simple clone of his father, and had become a person of his own.

However, the fact that Harry had grown up in such a short span of time was both shocking and confusing to the three.

"H-Harry?" said James. "W-Why do you look like you've been drinking an ageing potion? And what's with the armour?"

Lily glared at her husband. "You son has been missing for several weeks and that's the first thing you say upon meeting him?"

"Erm…"

Lily rolled her eyes and walked towards her son. "It's good to have you back dear," she said smiling. "And look at you, all grown up! No matter how that happened, I'm glad you don't look like an exact copy of your father."

"What? Why?" asked both Harry and James nearly simultaneously, the former with curiosity and the latter as if he had been insulted.

"Because one James Potter in enough in this family," replied the woman in a serious tone. "And I don't want to suffer like Molly Weasley who spends far enough time trying to figure out the identities of her twin sons."

James grumbled under his breath, and Dumbledore decided to enter the conversation.

"Well, Mr. Potter it is good to see you again and safe," said the old headmaster.

"It is good to see you again as well Professor Dumbledore," said the young Viscount. "However, I no longer go by Potter."

"What? Why not?" asked James, shocked once again.

"Grandfather and I discovered a few things about my ancestry…well, mine and mother's, and I decided to adopt the name of one of our ancestors."

"Fleamont mentioned that," said Lily. "Cyrod…what was it again?"

"Cyrodiil. The name I go by now is Henry Reman Cyrodiil," he said. "Don't think that I simply abandoned my origins here though."

"Then why did you change your name?" asked Lily.

"Because I…wait, I think it is best if we sit down," suggested Harry.

"A good idea, Mr. Cyrodiil," said Dumbledore, taking out his wand and conjuring four armchairs.

"We have chairs all around us Professor," said the young mage. "There was no need for that."

Dumbledore simply chuckled. "A habit of mine."

Harry simply shrugged and joined Dumbledore and his parents as they sat down on the rather comfortable armchairs.

"As you were saying," said Lily.

"Oh, yes… I changed my name because I wanted to see if I could start a new life in Tamriel," explained Harry. "The portal became somewhat damaged after my arrival, and at the time there was no way of me returning to this world. And with a new life, came a new name."

"What happened after you arrived?" asked his father. "And where did you arrive?"

"I arrived in a hidden chamber, inside the catacombs of a ruined city called Sancre Tor. From there, I explored the surrounding area with my broom, and I then decided to venture into a city nearby."

"What was it like?" asked Lily.

"The entirety of Tamriel is rather…medieval. Especially Cyrodiil, which is the province where I arrived. The city I mentioned, Chorrol, was no different. Thanks to the gold I had with me, I was able to gather public support towards myself, and I also joined an organization called the Mages Guild, which had a hall in Chorrol."

"Yes, your grandfather also mentioned something about magic," said Dumbledore. "Is it different from ours?"

"Everyone in Tamriel can practice magic, it's not a genetic ability. Magic comes from a realm called Aetherius, and while it may seem similar to ours, it functions differently," said Harry. "I can use it here, but only because magicka is currently leaking from the portal in Fort Reman. And the more it stays open, the more magicka will be leaked from there."

Harry raised his hand, and conjured a small ball of fire, which quickly turned into a multitude of lightning sparks, before assuming the aspect of a white and frosty mist.

"Impressive," said Dumbledore, fascinated by the display of foreign magic.

Harry smirked inwardly, and a purple orb appeared on his hand, before throwing it at an empty section of the floor near them. The three wizards jumped when they saw the orb expand, before disappearing to reveal an Auroran. It looked around, seeking any danger to its conjurer, and upon seeing or sensing none, it remained still.

"What in Merlin's pants is that thing?" demanded Lily.

"An Auroran. It is a being I summoned by using Tamriel's magic," said Harry, before using a Dispel to banish the Daedra. "And I can also banish it back to where it came from."

The three wizards settled back into their seats, James and Lily a bit unnerved by the Auroran's sudden appearance.

"Now, as I was saying, I joined the Mages Guild, and with the gold I had with me, I was able to buy the land where Sancre Tor was located, and from there I also ordered the construction of a residence for myself, which is at the moment being finished. Sometime after that, I travelled to the capital of the Empire, the Imperial City, although I don't exactly remember why I went there," said the Master-Wizard. "Something to do with a cult… Anyway, on the way to the city, I rescued a woman from some bandits, and it turned out that the woman was none other than the sister of the Emperor of Tamriel himself."

"You rescued…the sister of the Emperor…" said James, not quite believing what he had heard.

"Yes, and I also escorted her into the Imperial City, where she introduced me to her brother, Emperor Titus Mede II. A few things happened and I became a ward of the Emperor himself, and I was made Viscount of Sancre Tor as well."

The eyes of the three wizards widened in surprise.

"Why Mr… or should I say, Lord Cyrodiil?" asked Dumbledore.

"I have no idea," admitted Harry. "The Emperor said that he will only reveal his intentions when I complete the task he has assigned me."

"Task?" questioned Lily.

"The High King of Skyrim, one of the provinces of the Empire, was murdered by a man called Ulfric Stormcloak, who then began a rebellion to overthrow the Imperial government in Skyrim," explained the young mage. "The emperor sent me there to assist the Military Governor in, well…governing Skyrim. We were appointed as Imperial Regents, and will continue as such until the rebellion is crushed, and a new High King or Queen is chosen."

"This emperor must trust you enough to place you on the leadership of a country," commented Dumbledore.

Harry snorted. "If that was my only responsibility, then I would be rather relived."

"Why Harry?" asked his father.

The young Cyrodiil sighed. "Somehow, dragons have begun to appear in Skyrim, attacking everyone they find, and there is an old cult of necromancers who want to resurrect the most powerful necromancer in the history of Tamriel, who, due to a series of confusing events that no one really understands, is also a god."

"Hold on, what?" said Lily. "You're fighting against a…a god?"

"Two gods in fact," said Harry. "The dragons are commanded by Alduin, who is known in Tamriel as the Nordic Dragon God of Time. The necromancer one, known as Mannimarco, is famously known as the God of Worms."

"Harry…I'm sorry but…you're not making this up, are you?" asked James.

"You think I'm making this up?" replied Harry a bit irritated with his father's question.

James sighed, but it was Lily who spoke. "Harry, you have to understand that from our perspective, the world you are describing is very…alien to us. You may be used to it and all its cultures and features, but to us…it's something that we need time to comprehend."

"Is there a way for us to learn more about Tamriel?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry instinctively touched his armour, the spot which was concealing the Amulet of Kings. He then nodded to Dumbledore.

"Several ways in fact," he said looking at them calmly. "Are you willing to travel?"

That caught the attention of the three wizards.

"You're taking us to Tamriel?" asked Lily.

"No, I'm taking you to the Moon," he deadpanned. "I've heard it's a rather lovely place."

While James and Lily rolled their eyes, neither they nor Dumbledore could hide their excitement over visiting Tamriel. However, it was more of a relief to Harry, as he would soon return to the place he now called home. Unfortunately, "home" was currently being threatened by two deities who were not on good terms with him.

The sooner he dealt with them, the better.


	26. Chapter 26

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 26 – A Short Introduction to Cyrodiil**_

 **Fort Reman, Scotland (U.K.)**

While Harry had only planned for Dumbledore and his parents to accompany him, he couldn't simply deny his grandfather the opportunity to visit Tamriel. Besides, Fleamont made himself quite useful by creating a portkey to the general area of Fort Reman, allowing the five to reach it quickly and at the same time. Once there, the four wizards were a bit stunned at the amount of armoured figures there, and Harry noticed that while Dumbledore seemed to be unfazed by the situation, his parents and grandfather were a bit intimidated.

"Don't worry about them. They are guards and knights under my command," he explained. "I brought them here to protect the ruins and establish a base here."

There were already several tents and a campfire near the walls, and Harry noticed that there were also a few training dummies that were brought from Tamriel. Apparently, the soldiers worked rather quickly, something which he liked.

"Your Highness!" shouted a familiar voice.

Harry turned towards the source of the voice, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Amantius? Why are you here?"

"I assumed you wouldn't take long here, but shortly after you left, one of the scouts from the Order came searching for you," said his steward. "I came here to see if I could quickly inform you of that."

Harry nodded. "I was about to return to Tamriel right now. You did well in informing me."

"Erm, my lord, who are these people?" asked the Imperial.

"Close acquaintances of mine," was the simple reply.

Amantius realized that the Viscount would not be revealing anything else, and he mentally shrugged.

"Shall I accompany you in your return?" he asked.

"Of course!" said Harry. "You do have work to do in Sancre Tor, after all."

Harry and the others made their journey in silence, until they reached the catacombs where the sarcophagi were. Harry wanted to show something to the wizards, and for that Amantius was required somewhere else.

"Amantius, go ahead," he ordered. "I need to do something here first."

"Very well, your Highness." Said the man, who then proceeded to enter the portal chamber.

"Harry?" asked Lily after a while.

Harry walked towards the tomb of Juilek Cyrodiil, now sealed.

"These sarcophagi around us hold the remains of our ancestors, mother," he said to the woman. "This one next to me belongs to Juilek Cyrodiil, son of Emperor Reman III, last of the Cyrodiils to rule over the Empire."

"This is where we discovered the Amulet of Kings," spoke Fleamont. "Alongside the journal of Juilek and a sword."

The young Viscount nodded. "And beneath us lies the chamber where the portal to Sancre Tor is located. Let's move."

Harry walked towards the staircase, followed by the four wizards, and upon entering the portal chamber, only Fleamont and he remained normal. Dumbledore, James and Lily on the other hand, were quite stunned upon seeing the swirling energy that seemed to create a small void in its centre.

"It looks different from before," commented Fleamont.

"As I said, that's because the ritual was made correctly this time," said Harry. "And by the Eight, don't ask me how this works. While the whole process is explained in Juilek's journal, an oral explanation won't be enough to describe what is happening right here."

Harry turned around and walked into the portal, disappearing as soon as he reached its centre, almost as if he had been consumed by the black void. Lily and James became a bit worried and reluctant to enter the gateway, and while Fleamont was fascinated by now stable portal, Dumbledore was more interested in using said portal.

"Well…off we go then!" said the old man merrily.

Dumbledore entered the portal, disappearing like Harry, and was soon followed by the rather reluctant James and Lily. Fleamont followed suit, and soon enough the portal chamber was empty of life.

* * *

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

When the four wizards arrived at the other side of portal, Harry was already standing next to an opening on the wall, revealing a poorly lit, small, cell-like chamber, which opened into a larger chamber. The four looked around, noticing that the place was a bit similar in atmosphere to the dungeons of Hogwarts.

"Welcome to the catacombs of Sancre Tor," said Harry. "Final resting place of Empress Alessia, the Reman dynasty, and several members of the Dragonguard."

"Who's Alessia?" asked James.

"Founder of the Empire and mother of Reman," he explained while glancing at Lily. "Let's just say that mother and I have a quite…odd ancestry."

Dumbledore looked at his in curiosity. "Odd?"

"Well…I think that making love onto a hill rock isn't exactly the most common method of reproduction," he said to an audience which remained oblivious to the meaning of his words.

"What?" simply asked Fleamont.

Harry sighed. "When you read the unaltered version of the _Remanada_ you'll understand. Anyway, we should move. I didn't bring you here so that you could see the catacombs, not to mention that I have work to do."

They followed Harry as he left the chamber, proceeding into a rather labyrinthine set of corridors. Eventually, they reached what seemed to be exit of the catacombs, and from the dark and wet hallways of old Sancre Tor, they entered the white and blue halls of the palace of Sancre Tor. The four wizards became shocked at the sudden change in atmosphere and the contrast between the catacombs and the palace above. Harry's parents were stunned at the architecture and expensive-like appearance of the room they were in, while Dumbledore had been expecting something simpler, like a stone castle of sorts. Fleamont on the other hand, despite not being as surprised as the others, he was still a bit stunned by the architecture of the room they were in.

"And this is the palace proper, more specifically, the antechamber to the catacombs," said Harry. "Welcome to my home."

"It's amazing," said Lily.

"It's not fully furnished, as I am focusing more in the construction itself," said the Viscount. "Part of the palace is still under construction, but there are a few sections that are fully complete, such as the kitchens and the archives."

Dumbledore and Lily turned to stare at young mage.

"Archives?" asked Dumbledore, a bit more curious.

"The archives, the library…I don't exactly care much about the name," he admitted. "But it's my personal collection, books I've gathers during the years I spent here. There are also several scrolls and other documents there, but mostly books. I can give you access there if you want."

"Really?" asked Lily a bit excited.

Harry simply shrugged. "Sure. You simply need to make sure that the place remains tidy. While it is a private library, sometimes I give permission to certain scholars to visit it, and I am sure that my archivist would not be amused with unruly behaviour there. I can name a few Hogwarts students that would never place their feet there."

"Ah, but Mr. Cyrodiil, you seem to be forgetting something," said Dumbledore.

"Really? What?" he asked, a bit confused.

"You haven't forgot Madam Pince, did you?" asked the old headmaster.

Harry's eyes widened in remembrance. "Oh, right... I guess you must be used to that then. Never mind, but follow me."

Harry guided them to the entrance hall of the palace, passing by several guards and others who worked in the palace. As they left the building, the four wizards were met with a rather normal scenario. It was day, they sky was blue and there were clouds in the sky. There were several trees in the distance, and most of those around them were human, something which intrigued Dumbledore and Fleamont.

"And this is the exterior…the Colovian Highlands, which are part of the Imperial Province, also known as Cyrodiil," said the Viscount. "Welcome to Tamriel."

* * *

The five soon returned to the interior of the palace, and since Harry needed to meet with the scout, he told the four wizards that they could visit the library during his absence. He assigned a few guards to keep them in check, and made way to meet with Amantius. Once he found his steward, Harry noticed that with the old man was a young female Redguard dressed in light armour.

"Grandmaster, I bring news to you," said the scout.

Harry nodded. "What have you found?"

"As I investigated the area near Sancre Tor, I discovered that a few necromancers were nearby Echo Cave," she revealed. "I followed them, and upon closer observation, I realized that their robes had the symbol of the Black Worm."

"Echo Cave…that's where Mannimarco was killed," mumbled Harry. "They wouldn't be stupid enough to re-establish a base there, it would be too obvious. Perhaps an artefact…or some tome of necromancy that remained there…"

"Sir?" said the woman.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts. "Oh, yes, of course. You did well in bringing this information to me," he said. "I need you to do something for me."

"My lord?"

"Go to the Arcane University and request an audience with Diram Ienith, the overseer of the Chironasium. Ask him if he remembers anything about the theft of the Necromancer's Amulet and the Bloodworm Helm," he ordered. "Once you do, report back to Amantius, and he will transmit your findings to me. In the meantime, I will investigate Echo Cave."

"Very well, sir." said the scout, before leaving the room.

"Amantius, in the event of me not being here when she returns, write down her findings and then make a copy for the archives," he ordered. "I'll soon return to Skyrim, and I don't want to have any unfinished business here in Cyrodiil."

The man nodded. "It shall be done, my lord."

Harry opened his bag, and with his wand he summoned his armour's helmet. Catching it as it jumped out of the bag, Harry closed the bag and placed the helmet on his head, completing the set of armour he was wearing.

It was time to travel north-east.


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 27 – Inside Echo Cave**_

 **Echo Cave, Jerall Mountains, Cyrodiil**

For some reason, the weather became worse, a small storm occurring above the Jerall Mountains. When Harry arrived at the area where the entrance to the cavern was supposed to be was devoid of any necromancers or other rogue mages. However, there was no doubt that someone had been there. The wooden planks that had been once securing the door had been torn out, and the door that had once been there had been blasted, possibly by a Fireball spell.

Casting an Invisibility spell upon himself, Harry entered the cave, wondering what exactly he would find inside the place where the King of Worms had been killed, two centuries ago. As soon as he entered the first wide chamber of the cave, Harry's nostrils were attacked by a putrid smell. He quickly realized that there were certainly zombies inside the cavern, which consequently meant that there were necromancers around. He quickly examined he area, silently as he could, noticing that there were at least three reanimated corpses and a single necromancer, easily identifiable by the black robes and the symbol of the Black Worm.

He was aware that if he attacked right now, his concentration would be diverted from the invisibility spell towards his targets, but he also knew that if he quickly killed the necromancers, the spell that was binding the revenants to the Mundus would be broken, allowing their souls to be returned to the Dreamsleeve. Harry moved towards a crate, hiding behind it, before dispelling the invisibility spell. He focused on his magicka, white mist appearing on his hands. He quickly got up, directing the spell towards the necromancer duo.

Two large spikes of ice were shot from his hands, impaling each necromancer through the stomach. Unprepared for the sudden attack, the two simply fell limp on the ground, their thralls following suit. The decomposed corpses remained fully corporeal, not turning into ash, which possibly meant that these two necromancers had been proficient in reanimation. A corpse reanimated by a novice would simply turn into ash when the spell wore out. Still, despite their skill in necromancy, these two should have been more aware of their surroundings.

However, Harry knew that he should not underestimate the higher ranks of the Black Worm, especially the Anchorites and people such as the Wormmother. Despite having managed to defeat all Worm Cultists that he had confronted, it didn't hurt to be cautious in future encounters. He proceeded into the depths of the cavern, passing by several empty caskets and many discarded bones. He detected if any living or dead were close to him, but the spell only showed him vague forms in another section of the cavern system. It also detected the remains near him, but those were seemingly of no concern to him.

The putrid smell was still very strong, which meant that these necromancers had been in Echo Cave for a while now. That was most certainly not a good thing. Regardless, he needed to move forward. He was rather curious about why these Worm Cultists were in the cave.

* * *

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

When they had entered the library, Dumbledore and the three Potters were astounded by the enormous book collection within. Dumbledore had been immediately attracted towards a section with history books, while Fleamont became curious with a small section that seemed to be similar to the Restricted Area.

"How in Merlin's beard did he collect all of this?" said James.

"Well, in all the time Harry spent here, he certainly had the time and money to gather this impressive collection," said Fleamont as he opened the small gate.

Inside, there were several books, its titles clearly reflecting the most likely complex contents. While others had seemingly normal titles, such as the four volumes of the Commentaries on the Mysterium Xarxes. The third volume stood open on a desk, near a bunch of notes and an empty bottle of ink. Dumbledore had entered the small room as well, and his eyes quickly fell on a book with a rather peculiar title.

"Observations on the Model of the Dreamsleeve, by Henry R. Cyrodiil," said the old headmaster as he analysed the book's cover. "It seems that young Harry is quite a scholar."

"There are several scrolls in here as well," said Fleamont as he opened a chest, taking out one.

It was written in a strange script, making it pretty useless to him. Another had a schematic of the Amulet of Kings, seemingly made by Harry as well. It was filled with side notes about soul gems, not that Fleamont knew what they were. Amongst the notes was a small journal which caught the curiosity of Fleamont.

" _I wonder what he wrote in here,"_ thought the old man as he opened the small book, his eyes falling on a random page.

* * *

 _Middas, 16th of Sun's Dawn, 4E199_

 _It seems that the construction of Meridia's Sanctum will take a while. Sharog has informed me that the transportation of Her statue from the ruined sanctuary will be easily performed, but will take a while. It needs to be placed down there when no one is around. I don't want people to know yet that I worship the mistress of the Plenum. The Temple of Reman is also "near" completion, a few months more, and the other decorations can be finally implemented. Regardless, Sancre Tor seems to be in good shape, despite the attempted bandit raid last week. Since I was not in Sancre Tor at the time, I have to thank the Eight for the guards' efficiency in repelling them. The death of Sharog's assistant was unfortunate, but had the idiot taken refuge like the others, then he would not be a rotting corpse right now._

 _On another note, I received news that several members of the Elder Council are getting restless. And while I have full trust on Tharn's ability to keep them on a tight leash, I'm not stupid enough to believe that they would not try anything outside the legal bounds. That new councillor, Motierre, certainly seems to be one of them. And since the Emperor sole living relative is his sister, and both are childless, after their deaths we would have councillors at each other's necks in attempts to take control of the Ruby Throne. A succession crisis is the last thing we need now, especially with the Thalmor at our doorstep._

 _I also received a letter from Maven Black-Briar. I think I'll open it tomorrow. Must be another one of her attempts of having me consider a marriage between her daughter and I. My connections to the Emperor must be one of the main reasons she wants her daughter married to me, and while I can't deny that Ignun has her charm and beauty, which is odd considering the "marvellous" consanguinity in her family, her obsession with alchemy and morbid topics is rather unnerving. I better stop rambling. I need to travel to the Imperial City tomorrow and the carriage arrives early._

* * *

The journal entry was rather interesting to Fleamont, and it revealed quite a few things. He was rather curious about this… Maven Black-Briar, but more than that, it seemed that Harry was somehow involved in the deep politics of the Empire. His grandson had told his quite a few things back in the manor, but there were many things that Harry had certainly omitted. But he would have to ponder on that another time. He had to make sure that James was causing no accidental damage to the library.


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 28 – The Wormfather**_

 **Echo Cave, Jerall Mountains, Cyrodiil**

As the young Cyrodiil roamed the cavern, the smell of rotting corpses had brought him the occasional wish to vomit right there. The concentrated presence of undead made the smell much stronger, and eventually sneaking was no longer a choice. He had to make his stay in Echo Cave quick, and eliminate the Worm Nest that had occupied Mannimarco's former outpost.

Eliminating the undead had been a rather easy task, their weakened bodies not capable of withstanding a spell which combined the three elements of the school of destruction. The necromancers on the other hand, were a mixed case. The weak ones were easily taken care of, but those with a high skill in the magical arts were more of a challenge. Especially those who reanimated their fallen comrades to fight for them. A clever trick, but the fact that the reanimated necromancers still had to rise from the ground, Harry quickly focused on killing the one who had reanimated them.

His journey towards the cave's main chamber was pretty much a repetition of several battles, his focusing on no letting any necromancer escape in an attempt to warn their leader of his presence. He needed to know why they were here. After descending into the depths of the cavern, Harry came into what seemed to be an antechamber, filled with abandoned bones. There were no necromancers around, and the only way to proceed was by opening a rather old-looking wooden door.

He opened it, revealing a large chamber filled with water, a stone island on its middle. There, Harry could see a cloaked figure holding a staff. Taking hold of Dawnbreaker, and conjuring one of the most powerful destruction spells he knew, the Master-Wizard walked towards the island, attracting the attention of the cloaked necromancer. The figure turned around, revealing a man, seemingly a Nord, with a beard.

"So, the champion of Meridia has decided to grace me with his presence," said the Necromancer. "You coming here doesn't matter. We have gathered all we needed from this place."

Harry then came to notice what the staff on the necromancer's hands actually was.

"The Staff of Worms?" he asked alarmed.

"So you recognize this? We recovered it during the sack of the Imperial City," said the man, confirming Harry's suspicions about the staff's fate. "This relic pulses with Lord Mannimarco's power, and since this cavern was the place where his mortal half perished, part of his essence lingered around. My Lord's magicka now resides within His staff."

They were using the Staff of Worms to…collect magicka? That was all that Harry needed to know, and in moments the young Dragonborn unleashed the spell he had been containing since entering the chamber. The necromancer retaliated with a ward, attempting to protect himself from the spell. Upon impact, the necromancer was blasted backwards, his ward not having been enough to protect himself. Getting back on his feet before Harry had the opportunity to attack again, the Worm cultist attacked with lightning, Harry dodging and taking refuge behind a boulder, before summoning a Dremora Lord.

"I smell weakness…"

The necromancer quickly was aware of what his opponent had done, and when his eyes fell on the daedra, the man quickly summoned a Frost Atronach. The Dremora and the Atronach quickly attacked each other, while the necromancer began to search for Harry. Yet he could not figure out where the enemy was. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his chest, and looking down, he saw a blade sticking out of it. Behind him, a figure became visible, as the effects of invisibility were made null by the lack of concentration.

"Curse you…" said the necromancer as he fell to the ground, the Staff of Worms falling nearby.

And as he died, the Frost Atronach was banished back to Oblivion, his anchor having departed the world of the living.

"There could be no other end," said the Dremora as he sheathed his weapon.

Harry turned his attention towards the staff on the floor, but as he crouched down to grab it, the old artefact flew away, and as his head snapped towards it, he saw a cloaked necromancer near the antechamber's entrance taking hold of it. Harry reacted by casting a spear of ice towards the necromancer, but they disappeared in a swirl of magic, having recalled themselves back to another location.

"Damnit!" said the Grand Master.

The Black Worm no had the staff once more in their possession, but at least he had managed to eliminate a Worm Nest. He looked at the fallen cultist, and searched his body for any clues to where their headquarters could have been, and he quickly found a note in the robes.

* * *

 _To Wormfather Soren,_

 _You are to travel to Echo Cave in Cyrodiil with the Staff of Worms, and use it to extract any residue of Lord Mannimarco within the cave. Be cautious, for the headquarters of the Lamp Knights is nearby. Once it is done, go to our temple in High Rock and deliver the staff there. They shall continue your work there._

 _May the Shade of the Revenant guide you,_

 _Supreme Anchorite Vastae_

* * *

This was good. And bad too.

It seemed that the Worm Cult had a temple in High Rock, which meant that he needed to warn his Knight-Commanders about their presence in the north-western province. Once they discovered the temple, they could eliminate those within, dealing a blow to the Worm Cult and possibly delay their plans for Mannimarco's resurrection. However, the fact that the Staff had been reclaimed by the cultists meant that it would possibly be delivered to the temple in High Rock, allowing them to continue their plan.

Nevertheless, it was time to return to Sancre Tor. He had a few things to plan.

* * *

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

Harry had quickly returned to Sancre Tor, and upon entering the palace, he was met with Amantius holding two letters.

"My Lord, I have a letter from General Tullius and another from the Thalmor Embassy in Skyrim," said the man, giving the letters to Harry.

Harry took hold of them, and decided to open the General's letter first.

* * *

 _To Viscount Cyrodiil,_

 _Your presence is required here in Solitude. Due to your connections to Jarl Balgruuf, Legate Rikke and I believe you may convince him to ally with the Empire against Ulfric. We have received information that the Stormcloaks are amassing forces near Whiterun._

 _Awaiting your return,_

 _General Tullius_

* * *

It seemed that he really needed to return to Solitude as soon as possible. If Ulfric was going to attack Whiterun, he needed to make sure that Balgruuf was on the Empire's side. He placed the letter on top of a table, and opened the other from the Thalmor.

* * *

 _Elenwen, First Emissary of the Aldmeri Dominion to the Kingdom of Skyrim_

 _Requests the Pleasure of the Company of_

 _Henry Reman Cyrodiil_

 _at a Reception on 28 Frost Fall, 201 at the Ambassador's Residence._

 _Regrets Only. Formal Attire Requested._

* * *

Well, well. It seemed that Elenwen would be giving another of her magnificent parties. And this also seemed to be the perfect opportunity to infiltrate the Thalmor Embassy. Since it would be in the 28th of Frost Fall, he would have a few weeks to prepare for it, not to mention that now he had business on Solitude.

Regardless, before he returned to Skyrim he needed to check on his family and Dumbledore. He wanted to know what they were doing.

* * *

 _ **Pocket Guide to the Story, 2nd Edition:**_

 **Supreme Anchorite Vastae –** The leader of the revived Order of the Black Worm.


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 29 – Returning to the North**_

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

Harry entered the library, his eyes seeking out his family and Professor Dumbledore. He saw that Dumbledore and Fleamont were both speaking with the archivist, and his mother and father were nowhere to be seen. He approached the three, his presence being quickly acknowledged. The archivist quickly excused himself and went on to another section of the library.

"Ah, Harry!" said his grandfather. "How was your little trip?"

"Enlightening," he replied. "My parents?"

"They went to explore the rest of the palace," said Fleamont. "Lily felt a bit unnerved by James being around many seemingly important documents. I am sure you understand why."

"So, she has him on a leash. Good," said Harry. "How did you find the library?"

"It's rather remarkable," said Dumbledore. "I admit being fascinated with Tamrielic lore. However, my curiosity and fascination would not be shared by many of our brethren back home."

Harry agreed with Dumbledore on that matter. "A narrow mind can blind one to the many wonders of creation."

"Truer words have never been spoken, Mr. Cyrodiil," replied Dumbledore. "I am certain you know what the reaction of many of the more…conservative members of our society would be to the elves or the…how do you pronounce it? Kajiit?"

"It's Khajiit, professor," corrected Harry. "However, I prefer the term 'mer', to that of 'elf'. Yet you would find that all the wizards in our home world pale in comparison to the likes of many Dunmer, or dark elves. Even I, who have been acknowledged as a Master-Wizard, the second-highest rank in the Mages Guild, can only dream of reaching the prowess of Masters Divayth Fyr and Neloth, both older than the three of us together."

"How old, exactly?" asked Fleamont in curiosity.

"I don't have an exact number, but Master Fyr is over four thousand years old" said Harry, surprising both Dumbledore and Fleamont. "A bit older than Barry Winkle, no?"

"Indeed," said Dumbledore.

"Well…anyway, when do you plan to return to Earth?" asked Harry. "I have to direct the Lap Knights to attack an enemy fortress in High Rock and I have to return to Skyrim as soon as possible, so my free time is very limited."

"As soon as Lily and James return, we shall travel back to Earth," said Dumbledore. "Our occupation also limits our time as well, Mr. Cyrodiil."

"I think I'll remain here for a while, if you don't mind," said Fleamont. "Since I have little to do back home, might as well occupy myself here."

"Sure grandfather," said Harry. "Feel free to use the palace."

"Thank you Harry."

As the three finished their conversation, they decided to leave the library and go search for James and Lily, finding them near the north wing of the palace. After they said goodbye, the four returned to Earth, although Fleamont did so temporarily as he had to take care of a few things and collect certain items he would need for his stay in Tamriel. In the meantime, Harry made sure to gather all Knight-Commanders present in Sancre Tor, wanting to brief them on his recent discoveries.

* * *

"As some of you may know, we recently discovered that the Worm Cult had established a presence in Echo Cave," said the Grand Master to those present. "I personally rectified the situation. The leader of that Worm Nest had in his possession the Staff of Worms, which unfortunately remains in the cult's possession."

The commanders were shocked by the revelation. The Staff of Worms was one of the most powerful magical artefacts known to exist, and having been created by the most powerful and infamous necromancer to have ever lived, it certainly wasn't good that it was once more in the hands of his followers. What was worse, was that the staff probably had powers that were only known to Mannimarco himself, and if he returned and got his hands on the staff… they could only shiver at the thought.

"However, I have good news. A note in the Wormfather's corpse revealed the presence of a Worm Cult Temple in High Rock, alongside the identity of the current leader of the Worm Cult as a whole," said Harry. "I am certain it isn't their main headquarters, but the destruction of this temple may hinder their efforts, and deal a great blow to the morale and power of the cult. As we have no exact location, you are to use all resources available to you in order to seek it, and eliminate it. Spread this information to your fellow Knight-Commanders, and make sure to inform me if you find any relevant clues about this temple. Understood?"

He received affirmative responses from those present.

"Good. You may return to your duties then," he stated. "Oh, and I shall be returning to Skyrim soon, so you must direct all information to the Grand Chancellor of the Order."

* * *

 **Skyrim**

When everything had been taken care of, Harry prepared to return to Skyrim. Knowing that Sancre Tor would be secure during his absence, he departed for the Northern Province using his favoured travel method. As Harry flew past the mountains of Skyrim on his voyage to Solitude, acknowledging his love for flight as a possible trait of his nature as one of the Dovah, he saw a dark figure nearby, flying above a forest below him.

He descended, and soon he recognized it as a dragon, one which was possibly revived by Alduin. He charged up magicka in one of his hands, before releasing a powerful blast of fire at the flying dragon, which had not noticed his presence until then. Unaware of its opponent, the dragon was both surprised and stunned by the sudden attack, feeling the power behind the magic of his opponent as the blast of fire impacted on its hide.

Now, that created a small problem. The nature of that blast was certainly not from a shout, and it came from above. And the dragon certainly knew that its kind didn't use the magic commonly used by mortals. To say that the dragon was confused would be an understatement, but as it turned around and saw who its enemy was.

" _ **Hi piraak bo!"**_ it said.

" _ **Zu'u dreh ful,"**_ replied Harry, once more surprising the dragon, who immediately recognized its enemy.

" _ **Dovahkiin!"**_

Harry simply smiled. _**"Hin bo."**_

Despite his limited knowledge of the dragon language, Harry was very much capable to initiating small conversations, and he was very amused by the dragon's surprise at him being capable of flying.

" _ **Gaan Lah Haas!"**_

Harry evaded the purple energy, retaliating with a bolt of lightning which hit one of the dragon's wings.

" _ **Yol Toor Shul!"**_

As Harry continually evaded the dragon's shouts, his main objective was to remain on air and to make sure his broom was not damaged. If he fell, he could simply recall himself to another location, but then he would have to get a new broom, and that meant he had to return to Earth and waste more time.

" _ **Fus Ro Dah!"**_

This time, it was he who used a shout, putting all his power behind it and making sure the moving dragon was successfully hit. He got out his wand, and aimed at his opponent.

"Descendo!"

It was as of a boulder fell on the dragon, the beast suddenly being propelled towards the ground. It fell towards the forest, landing amongst the trees and destroying some in the process. Perhaps it would be best to end this quickly. He aimed at the location where the dragon fell, and thought about the best spell for this situation.

"Reducto!"

A jet of blue light went straight towards the forest, and as it impacted on the ground where the dragon was supposed to be, Harry saw a flash, followed by a bright explosion. As the light faded, he flew towards the ground, and was surprised to find the dragon still alive. Badly wounded, but alive.

" _ **Ruth!"**_ it said, before beginning to speak in Tamrielic. "You are strong Dovahkiin. But you are much young."

Harry could not see the meaning behind the dragon's words. He was young? Well, that he knew, but knowing that the dragon was using a language other than its own, it most likely meant something else. Harry could not simply see what his youth had to do with the battle. Was the dragon trying to say he was inexperienced?

Nevertheless, before the dragon could regain its strength, or even attempt a surprise attack, Harry charged up his magicka once more, and struck the dragon with a powerful bolt of lightning, ending its life. And as its soul was absorbed, Harry felt once more the rush of memories, knowledge and power within him, the sensation of wholeness slightly increasing.

When it was over, Harry looked around, wanting to see the damage he had made to the area. It would seem that several trees had been blasted apart, and others were missing chunks.

"I really need to stop using that spell," he mumbled, before deciding to continue on his trip to Solitude.

* * *

 **Solitude, Haafingar, Skyrim**

It was already evening when he arrived at Solitude, and Harry quickly made way to Castle Dour, knowing that General Tullius would probably be there as usual. He entered the fortress, being saluted by the legion members there, and found the General alongside Legate Rikke in the war room.

"Good evening General. Legate," said Harry, attracting their attention.

"Cyrodiil, good thing you are here," said Tullius. "I assume you received my letter."

"I did. So, what's the plan?"

"Ulfric will certainly try to convince Balgruuf to join him, and the troops which he gathered near the borders of Whiterun are certainly his reply to a negative response," said Tullius. "We need to act first."

"I think I can do that," he said. "Jarl Balgruuf and I are familiar with each other. He made me a Thane of Whiterun not long ago, after I killed a dragon there."

"Then you may be more successful at convincing him than we were," said Tullius. "We have already begun to deploy troops near Whiterun as well, so we are prepared for battle as well."

Harry nodded. "I will depart for Whiterun today. It won't take look to reach it with my method of travel."

Tullius grabbed a sealed letter on top of a table.

"Give this to Balgruuf. This missive contains several intelligence reports we have gathered about Ulfric's moves regarding Whiterun," explained the General.

"I assume this is to be given directly to Balgruuf."

Tullius nodded.

"Very well then. I'll see what I can do."

* * *

 _ **Pocket Guide to the Story, 2nd Edition:**_

 **Hi piraak bo** – "You possess flight" (supposed to be interpreted as "You can fly").

 **Zu'u dreh ful** – "I do so".

 **Hin bo** – "Your move" (to be interpreted as "Your turn").

 **Ruth** – "Curses"


	30. Chapter 30

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 30 – The Allegiance of a Jarl**_

 **Whiterun, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

Arriving in Whiterun had been rather easy and quick, and Harry landed near the stables, intending on going to Dragonsreach by foot. He walked rather quickly to the entrance, passing by the many merchants and other people that either entered or left the city. He would blame it on distraction, as Harry bumped into someone whilst passing by the well near the Bannered Mare. Upon realizing who it was, he could not help but be surprised.

"Councillor Motierre! I did not expect to find you here in Skyrim, especially with the civil war," he said. "What brings you here?"

Near Motierre was a man wearing a variation of the armour of the Imperial Legion, which Harry recognized as being Motierre's bodyguard.

"Oh, Cyrodiil… erm… I have certain things that need to be taken care of," said Motierre in a seemingly nervous manner. "I had to come personally. Documents to sign, transactions to make, and all that."

"Well, then I won't keep you," replied Harry. "Have a good day."

"Likewise," said the man. "Rexus, let's move!"

Harry did not even watch as the two men left, and quickly made his way to Dragonsreach. Entering the fortress, he saw that Jarl Balgruuf was sitting on his throne, Proventus and Irileth standing next to him. The housecarl had immediately noticed him, shortly followed by Balgruuf himself.

"Thane Henry!" greeted the Jarl. "What brings you here."

"Greetings Jarl Balgruuf," replied Harry. "However, I do not come here as a Thane of Whiterun. I come in my role as one of the two Regents of Skyrim."

"I see…" said Balgruuf knowing exactly what Harry wanted. "And what does the Empire want? I have no doubt that General Tullius is trying to convince me to allow the presence of his men here."

Harry took out the missive Tullius had given him.

"Our intelligence has gathered enough information to confirm that Ulfric has gathered a large enough force to attack the city," explained Harry. "We are offering you aid to defend Whiterun in this eventual scenario. All the details are in this missive… for your eyes only."

Balgruuf motioned for harry to give him the documents, and upon receiving them, the Jarl opened them and began to read, his expression growing more alarmed as he continued. Harry could only hope that whatever was in the missive would be enough to convince the Jarl of this whole thing.

"There are… interesting reports," said Balgruuf. "This isn't good at all! Proventus, what do you make of all this? If Ulfric were to attack Whiterun…"

"As in all things my lord, caution," suggested the Nibenese. "I urge us to wait and see."

"That was also the mentality of emperors Leovic and Uriel Septim III," said Harry. "History is rather clear on what happened to both. If we wait, we are giving our enemies a temporal advantage over us, which can lead to their success."

"I agree," stated Irileth. "Prey waits."

It did not take long for Jarl Balgruuf to decide as well.

"I am of a mind with you two," declared the man. "It's time to act!"

Proventus was shocked by the Jarl's declaration.

"You… you plan to march on Windhelm?"

"I'm not a fool, Proventus! I mean it's time to challenge Ulfric to face me as a man, or to declare his intentions."

Harry shook his head. "Ulfric's intentions have been made very clear Jarl Balgruuf. You are the only neutral Jarl in this war, and for Stormcloak, you either join him or stand against him. If you align yourself with Ulfric, the army he gathered will be directed towards another hold, most likely Falkreath or Morthal, a fragment being used to patrol Whiterun. But if you stand against him… I believe what will happen is very clear."

"Aye." said Balgruuf in a seemingly defeated voice, before quickly returning to his normal posture.

Harry had Balgruuf exactly where he wanted him.

"This might sound quite biased coming from me, but if you wish to retain your hold, then you only have two options," he said. "Either side with us, and as part of the Empire, we shall defend you, or join Ulfric and hope that his forces will be enough to keep us out."

Balgruuf turned towards his housecarl.

"What do you think Irileth?"

"Ulfric has already proven his personal strength, and now he wants to prove his army's." she said "I would suggest that you accept General Tullius's request."

"Proventus?"

"I agree with Irileth," he said. "And what harm is there in letting a few Legionnaires die in place of your men?"

Harry glared at Proventus, making the man flinch.

The Jarl did not exactly share Proventus's opinion on the matter. "It seems cowardly."

"It is cowardly," stated Harry.

"Was it cowardly then to accept the White-Gold Concordat?" spoke Irileth.

"This again? That was different. Was I given a chance to object to the terms of the treaty? No," protested the Jarl. "The Jarl's weren't asked, we were told. And we had to like it."

"The chests of…"

It was then that Harry decided to interrupt that pointless argument.

"Jarl Balgruuf, I apologize, but I don't think this is the time to be discussing such things," he said. "Especially when your hold and people are being threatened by another."

"You're right!" said Balgruuf. "Proventus, bring me my pen. And the good parchment."

"Are we writing a letter, my lord?"

"Yes, to General Tullius," declared the Jarl of Whiterun. "I need to make a few things clear before I accept these Legionnaires of his."

"Once you are done I shall bring the letter to him," said Harry. "My method of travel is rather fast."

Balgruuf nodded.

"Very well… very well…"

* * *

 **Solitude, Haafingar Hold, Skyrim**

"You…you did it!" marveled Tullius. "By Dibella's unmentionables, you actually did it!"

The Viscount of Sancre Tor shrugged.

"Meh. A few words of advice and the actual threat of invasion by Ulfric was enough to convince him," he said. "I would advise you as well to read his letter carefully as well. Balgruuf made it clear he had certain conditions to allow the presence of your legion there."

"Already did. It's nothing that can't be arranged," assured Tullius. "Legate Rikke, begin to organize the troops we prepared for this. You will be commanding the Legion's defence of Whiterun."

"Yes, sir!" replied the woman.

"One question," said Harry. "Do you have any members of the Shadow Legion stationed here in Skyrim under your command?"

"A few were sent here to help with this whole mess," confirmed Tullius. "Why?"

"After Balgruuf showed me the reports you gathered, I believe that if the Stormcloaks suffer heavy losses in this battle and few manage to escape, then we will deal a great blow to both the rebels' manpower and morale," said Harry. "The presence of Battlemages from the Shadow Legion, even if just one, will certainly grant us a great advantage in the upcoming battle."

"I'll see what can be done," said Tullius. "What will be your move now Cyrodiil?"

"My move? I'll be joining the defence of Whiterun, of course!" said Harry, as if suggesting otherwise was heresy.

"What! Are you certain about that?"

The Viscount nodded. "I am. I shall go today to Whiterun and wait there for the Legion's arrival. In the meantime, I will attempt to be on the lookout for Stormcloak activity in the hold. Their scouts will certainly see the arrival of the Legion in Whiterun as the confirmation of Balgruuf's allegiance to the Empire."

Tullius nodded, and Harry left the General to his devices, preparing himself to a return voyage to Whiterun.

* * *

 **Whiterun, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

While he only took a few hours to travel to Whiterun from Solitude, he knew it would be a few days before Rikke's force arrived at the city. As he arrived at the general vicinity of the hold capital, Harry began to analyse the area around the city. From the perspective of someone coming from the Imperial Province, then to the west of Whiterun were vast tundra plains which were home to both giants and mammoths. However, it was unlikely that Ulfric's forces would come from there. Everything to the west of Whiterun was under Imperial control.

Therefore, it only made sense for the battle to take place in the western area of Whiterun, where all the farms were. That meant that the Stormcloaks would come from either the path that led towards the hot springs which stood between Riften and Windhelm, or they would come from Dawnstar. Still, the Legion was probabily already aware of that. What he tried to do was to find things that could provide more advantages to the empire, but luck had not been on his side at that moment.

Upon returning to the city proper, he made way to the Bannered Mare, intending on meeting Uthgerd once more. And she was there, on her usual spot, very much alive.

"Back again Henry?" she asked upon seeing him. "It's been several days."

"Cyrodiil kept me busy," he replied to his friend. "But now I'm here again, and ready to continue my work."

"Let me guess. You want me to join you again?"

"Your choice Uthgerd," said Harry.

The Nord woman sighed before getting up. "It's certainly better than staying here all day doing nothing. So, what's happening right now?"

"Balgruuf has aligned himself with the empire and Ulfric will try to take the city," he quickly explained. "I am waiting for the legion to arrive here, so that we can properly mount our defences."

"What about the dragons?"

"I also have a solution to our… problem with the embassy," he said in a low tone. "They sent me an invitation to a gathering. All I need to do is to show up and play my part. But that's for another day. Now we need to speak with Jarl Balgruuf about a few things."

She motioned towards the inn's entrance door. "Lead the way."


	31. Chapter 31

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

So, after a few months, you have a new and rather small chapter. Blame my "author's block". I know I did. So, in case you forgotten what is happening in the story, here's a small summary of the recent events.

After having been made Grand Master of the Lamp Knights and having a small encounter with his family back on Earth and bringing them for a visit to Tamriel, Harry returned to Skyrim, heading to Whiterun where he made sure Balgruuf aligned himself with the Empire, and met his old travel companion Uthgerd once more.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 31 - For Whiterun**_

 **Whiterun, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

Harry had been patrolling the skies of Whiterun for a while, trying to spot any advances from the Stormcloaks. He had managed to spot a few hidden camps, his high altitude being enough for him to be mistaken for a bird. He had not attacked them, fearing he would have driven the rebels to attack Whiterun earlier. The forces of the Legion which had been sent to Whiterun had not arrived yet, and he would not risk the city in such a way.

Soon came the day when the dispatched forces of Imperial Legion arrived at Whiterun, Legate Rikke amongst them, accompanied by another Legate. The city had already been evacuated for good measure, and the population sent to the nearby villages. That way, the defences of the city could be better planned and executed, without interference from the city's inhabitants. They would also be safe from harm, during the oncoming battle. Even the proud Companions had been sent away from their mead hall, the order coming directly from the Jarl.

It quickly dawned that the battle was unavoidable, and some of its key figures were gathered at the war room above the main hall of Dragonsreach, planning the Imperial position in the oncoming battle.

"Catapults have been sighted," informed one of the scouts.

"Where?" demanded the Jarl.

"To the south, sir," said the man. "Near the mountain base."

"They're that close?" said Balgruuf surprised. "What's the plan?"

"Do any of your men know anything related to magic?" Harry asked.

"Some must do," affirmed Balgruuf. "Why?"

"Because those who have an acceptable grasp on restoration must be gathered up with the rest of the mages. At least for the first part of the battle. We intent for them to cast a curse upon the rebels and siphon away their energies to our soldiers."

Balgruuf nodded, being familiar with the tactic.

"The majority of the battlemages will be placed both in the front lines and in the special positions, giving us a clear path to an advantage against the Stormcloaks. The others have been instructed to provide healing and defensive spells to the soldiers in the battlefield." spoke Legate Cipius. "Have the archers been deployed?"

"They have," confirmed Irileth. "We also have guards at the drawbridge, ready to close it in case the Stormcloaks manage to reach the city."

"What about the passage above it?" asked Rikke.

"It's been blocked," said Irileth. "No one will get through there."

The sound of an explosion could be heard in the distance, muffled by the walls between them and the rest of Whiterun.

"How many men do the rebels have here?" asked Harry.

"About three hundred or so," said Legate Cipius.

"And us?"

"A total of five hundred men were deployed for the defence of Whiterun," affirmed Rikke. "And we also have the military of Whiterun."

Balgruuf nodded. "So the numbers are on our side. Good."

A scout came running into the war room, clearly exhausted.

"Sir! I… I have…"

"Take a moment to breath, soldier," said Cipius.

"But… sir…"

"Breathe!" commanded the Legate, making the scout flinch before taking deep breaths.

It took a few seconds before the man was able to properly talk.

"Sir, they have arrived," announced the man. "Their catapults are gathered near the farms to the south, and their main force is there as well."

"Anything else?" asked Harry.

"The catapults… they're loading them with fire."

"So…he wants to take my city, walls intact." mused Balgruuf.

"I'm not sure we should stay here," said Harry. "I'm going down to meet with the Legion."

Balgruuf looked surprised at Harry.

"You're joining the battle?"

Harry simply glanced at the Jarl.

"Of course."

* * *

When Harry arrived at the walls alongside Uthgerd, he saw that in the distance he could see the gathered forces of the Stormcloaks, alongside their catapults. Across the walls were the archers from both the legion and the guards of Whiterun, the fields below empty of anything but nearly frozen grass and small rivers. A ball of fire came from the farms, heaving straight into the city behind them.

 _"We need to take them out, quickly,"_ thought Harry. _"Otherwise there will be no Whiterun to defend."_

"Are you ready?" asked his companion.

Harry nodded, quickly leaving the walls and heading straight into the city gates. As the two reached them, he saw that Rikke was giving a speech to the gathered Legion soldiers, a rallying them to the inevitable fight. He approached the Legate as soon as her speech was over, ready for the next step.

"Are they ready?"

"As ready as a soldier can be," replied Rikke. "The others are waiting for the signal."

Harry looked at the sky, blue and with several clouds. In fact, it was a rather pleasant day. Too pleasant for a battle, really. One of his hands was already glowing and sparking with lightning, and he launched the spell into the air, a bolt of lightning striking the clouds above, causing a loud thunder to be heard across the plains of Whiterun.

"And so it begins."

* * *

The bolt of lightning and the subsequent thunder had been the signal that the Imperial forces in Whiterun had been waiting for. When the Imperial soldiers at the front advanced into the field to meet with the opposing Stormcloaks, Harry and Uthgerd amongst these, from the east and the west appeared the remaining force dispatched from the Legion in Skyrim, the two assisted by Imperial Battlemages who had made the soldiers invisible with Illusion magic, striking the rebels with the element of surprise.

The rebels had not been prepared for this type of defence. The main Imperial force was cloaked under a red mist as they advanced, said mist passing from the Imperials and into the Stormcloaks, who began to be drained from their lifeforce. The summoning of Daedra from Oblivion was also another factor that gave an immense advantage to the defenders of Whiterun, and Harry too did not forgot about his exclusive power of summoning Aurorans from the Coloured Rooms. And neither did he about the Voice.

The clash of blades against armour or shield was quickly silenced by the power of the Voice, and soon enough, the coordinated efforts from the Battlemages and the soldiers made the victory of the Empire a certainty. And with the two sides mostly composed of conscripted solders, both rebels and loyalists were been exposed first hand to the devastating abilities of the obscure and elite Shadow Legion, and that of Harry's own personal power.

And when he left the battlefield, he did so with a blood-soaked Dawnbreaker, and Uthgerd at his side.


	32. Chapter 32

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

 _ ***Other Speech***_

" **Other Language"**

 _ **Chapter 32 – Diplomatic Immunity**_

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

"You're kidding, right?"

Delphine had just read the letter which Harry had given her, not quite believing its contents. At her question, Harry shook his head, much to her delight.

"This is exactly what we need to get inside their embassy!" exclaimed the agent. "I was already planning to infiltrate you into one of their parties, but with this, there's no need to make any alteration to their lists, or anything of the sort."

"It's all official," remarked Harry. "But what's the general plan?"

"I have a contact inside the Thalmor Embassy who can help us. But once you are inside the Embassy, you must find a way to slip away from the party and reach Elenwen's office. Once there, you must find anything she may have about the dragons," said Delphine. "Any idea on how you will do it?"

"Perhaps… Many years ago, I got mixed up in a strange plan of some friends of mine, which involved infiltrating an… 'enemy base', shall we say," said Harry. "One of them made a potion, which allowed us to assume the form of our enemies, simply by mixing a bit of their hair with it."

Delphine was very intrigued with this. "And did it work?"

"It did, but it turned out to be a waste of time, and one of them accidentally used cat fur instead of proper hair, which got her into a lot of trouble… no matter. I'm not a expert in these types of potions, but many months ago I managed to create a successful batch of said potion, which I still have. Stored away, of course."

"You'll be disguised as a Thalmor?" asked Uthgerd, who had been drinking mead.

Harry shook his head. "No. I think I'll need your help for this Uthgerd."

The Nord woman looked at Harry with wariness. "What are you planning?"

The emergent ominous smile on Harry's face was enough to tell her it would not be overly pleasant.

 **Thalmor Embassy, Haafingar Hold, Skyrim**

"I'm feeling regrets over this Henry."

"Hush, now," he hissed. "Everything's proceeding as planned."

The time had come to set in motion Harry's infiltration of the Thalmor Embassy. He had met with the Bosmer Malborn at the Winking Skeever in Solitude, finding the elf a rather nervous individual. Still, Harry was quite sure he would be nervous too had he been in Malborn's position. Nevertheless, he had to admit he was nervous too, especially considering the risk of what he was about to do.

Uthgerd was at his side, but only he knew of it, as she wore a ring of invisibility. The carriage transporting them had arrived at the building, and there were a few already parked there. To their luck, the path to the embassy's entrance was made of stone, which got rid of the possibility of footprints appearing out of nowhere in the snow. The two walked towards the entrance, guarded by one of the Thalmor.

"Welcome to the Thalmor Embassy," said the man. "Your invitation, please."

Harry, wearing what he had considered to be a rather expensive set of clothes, took out the invitation he had received many days ago, handing it to the bouncer. The Altmer looked at the paper, checking that everything was in order.

"Thank you, sir. Go right in."

Harry nodded, opening the doors long enough to allow him and Uthgerd passage. As he entered, he quickly saw a few familiar faces, and was quickly received by the hostess of the party.

"Ah, Henry Cyrodiil," said Elenwen upon seeing him. "We meet again."

"Indeed, High Emissary. I believe the last I saw you was during what was supposed to be the execution of Ulfric Stormcloak."

Harry could not detect what kind of expression appeared on the Altmer's face, but it was very odd. "Yes. Unfortunately, delayed. I hear you have been sent to this… province by your emperor, to assist in its ruling. A rather… daunting task, is it not?"

Harry shrugged. "Depends on the day."

Before their conversation could continue, the two were interrupted by Malborn, who had been silently hearing the two.

"Madame Ambassador, I'm so sorry to interrupt..."

She turned towards the Bosmer, quite annoyed. "What is it, Malborn?"

"It's just that we've run out of the Alto wine. Do I have your permission to uncork the Arenthia red…?"

She simply dismissed him, yet giving him authorization to do so. At this, Malborn opened the door into the kitchen, allowing the invisible Uthgerd entrance. According to plan, she would wait there until Harry managed to bypass the guards in the party chamber. Elenwen had left him, allowing Harry some freedom. For everything to go perfectly, he would have to spend a while acting normally. He could not simply rush these things over. Quite a few minutes were spent chatting with familiar faces and hearing the conversations of others, drinking a few cups of wine while doing so, but not enough to get him drunk.

Arranging a distraction was going to be quite hard, but to his luck, some idiot decided to drink too much, leading him to cause a rather convenient disturbance which allowed him to quickly enter the small kitchen's antechamber, where Uthgerd waited for him, a small bag next to her. As soon as the door was closed, she took of the ring, the enchantment ceasing to have effect over her.

"Finally," she exclaimed. "Now what?"

Harry took from one of his pockets a hip flash, handing it to Uthgerd. "This is the potion you need to drink. Drink only a small bit for now. It will take effect near immediately."

She took the flash, and drank a small portion of the Polyjuice Potion. She quickly gave it back to Harry, feeling the potion taking effect. In moments, her entire body had been transformed, now an identical double of Harry himself.

"This is… this is… strange," said Uthgerd, her voice too, now the same as Harry's. "Damn, this armour is too large."

She took of the armour, a scene quite embarrassing for Harry and Malborn. She quickly opened the bag taking out a set of fine clothes, just like those Harry was wearing, bar the blue cloak, which he handed to her, giving him more freedom of movement.

"You know what to do, right?" he asked, upon which Uthgerd nodded. "If you feel that the potion is ceasing to have effect, simply drink back from the flask."

He handed the object back to her, and in turn, she gave him the ring of invisibility, which Harry quickly put on. Malborn whispered about where his necessary items for the mission had been placed, and hiving him two pats on his shoulder, the young Breton watched as the Bosmer and his doppelgänger went back to the main chamber. He ignored the busy Khajiit, and entered the other storage room, where both his wand, an enchanted dagger, and his special bag were.

Making to make as little noise as possible, Harry slowly proceeded into the embassy's depths, carefully avoiding a few soldier and mages on the way. He managed to catch on a few conversations, learning that the Thalmor had sent more mages from Alinor into Skyrim, possibly due to the dragon attacks. But he was not overly interested in the talk of guards or soldiers. He needed "official" documents from either Elenwen, or any of her subordinates. His search of the embassy's rooms led to no decent discovery, and he was soon forced to enter the outer courtyard. It was only then that he realized that there was another building in the embassy, yet detached from the main one. And its entrance was guarded by a Thalmor mage.

Sneaking towards the entrance, he pointed his wand at the Thalmor.

"Confundo."

The guard had no idea why, but it seemed to be a very good idea to go and look at the bushes nearby. And no longer guarding the door, the guard unknowingly allowed Harry entrance into the solar. Unlike the main building, this one was mostly silent and empty. He could hear a conversation coming from a room nearby, and there was a guard near the stairs, but other than that, it was rather quiet.

He moved towards the room where the conversation was taking place, and made sure to hear what turned out to be a quite interesting conversation. What appeared to be a Justiciar was arguing with one of the Thalmor agents, who quite curiously appeared to be a Nord, judging from his name.

"They have prisoner here…" thought Harry, waiting for the Nord to leave the solar.

He watched as the Altmer left the office into a room, leaving him free to inspect the office, and the other rooms, the guard completely oblivious to his presence. He stumbled upon a small chest in one of the rooms, inside two dossiers with rather peculiar titles.

"Delphine and… Ulfric Stormcloak?" he muttered. "I suppose they would have notes on him. I'll read these later."

He placed the two documents inside his bag, before turning to the desk behind him, a key above it.

Perhaps it was time to follow that Altmer from before.


	33. Chapter 33

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

 _ ***Other Speech***_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 33 – To Find a Cornered Rat**_

 **Thalmor Embassy, Haafingar Hold, Skyrim**

As he moved to take hold of the key, Harry noticed a note right next to it, apparently to Elenwen. He read it, being surprised by the fact that the Thalmor knew far less about the dragons than they did, to the point where they were interrogating someone about it.

" _Perhaps it's the man they mentioned before,"_ wondered the Breton as he placed the note inside his bag.

Harry took the key and opened the door, entering a rather worn-down stairwell, which would very likely take him into where that Thalmor from before had gone into. He was sure it would be the dungeons, considering what the note said and the conversation he had eavesdropped earlier. He quietly descended the short stairwell, finding himself in a rather ominous looking basement. There were no guards nearby, but he quickly noticed that there was some sort of gallery section, where he could see the larger room below, where the cells were.

That Thalmor from before, likely the Rulindil from the note, was sitting at a desk, likely already interrogating the prisoner, while a single Thalmor guard stood inside the cell, a weapon which Harry could not see very well on his hand. Likely a dagger.

" _Bastards…"_ whispered Harry, determined to end this interrogation as soon as possible.

He went down the stairs, attempting to ignore the words of Rulindil and the screams of the prisoner as he was tortured for information about some old man. As soon as he was in their floor, Harry pointed his wand at the Thalmor interrogator.

"Stupefy," he whispered.

The red beam impacted on the Thalmor, who slumped unconscious on the table, almost as if he had fallen asleep. The silence however, had been noticed by the torturer.

"Sir?" spoke the man, who quickly noticed that Rulindil was not quite awaken has he had been seconds ago.

The torturer quickly left the chamber, seeking to check what had happened, but he too was stunned by Harry, the guard falling on the floor and his bloodstained dagger landing nearby. Harry walked past the unconscious Thalmor and entered the cell. The man inside had many wounds on his chest, arms, and legs, all bleeding.

"I told you… I don't know anything else about it," said the man, his voice rasp and weak.

Harry removed his ring before conjuring a small amount of magicka, directing it towards the man in the form of a healing spell. "I'm not here to torture you."

The man breathed in relief as he felt his body being healed, the wounds being magically sealed.

"W-What? But who… what do you want then?" asked Etienne.

Harry was already moving to the chains on the wall, readying himself to unlock them. "Information, like them. But as I said, I'm not here to torture you."

The two claps were unlocked, the man falling forward at his sudden release.

"First things first, who are you and what are you doing here?" demanded Harry.

"Etienne. They grabbed me in Riften, no idea why. They seem to think I know something."

Harry assisted the man in getting up. "And what exactly do you know?"

"They're after some old man called Esbern. They want him because of the dragons," said Etienne. "I heard them speaking of it while they thought I was out. I saw someone in Riften, and they think it was him. But I don't even know where he lives, and before them, his name."

They would certainly have more information about this Esbern, and considering what he had seen before, these Thalmor too liked to keep things documented.

"Hold on a moment, I have to search their papers."

"Then hurry! We have to get out of here!" pressed the former prisoner.

Harry quickly walked towards the desk, and grabbed all written papers, before opening the nearby chest, too taking the documents within. There was a key on top of the table, and the young Dragonborn took it as well.

"Hey, I saw them dragging bodies over here," said Etienne as he approached a trapdoor. "Might be a way out."

Harry nodded, but Etienne watched in confusion as the teenager took out a stick, before pointing it at both Thalmor, uttering something he could not understand. It seemingly had no effect, but he was soon joined by Harry, who opened the trap door with the key. Etienne was the first to jump down, the jump being rather short, and Harry followed him, closing the trapdoor behind them. They were in some sort of small cavernous corridor, with bones around them and rotting body parts, while trails of blood drew a path deep into the cavern. The smell from the rotting corpses was certainly not pleasant, but for Harry, who was used to deal with reanimated corpses, it was nothing out of the ordinary.

"You said they dragged the bodies here. You meant as in, they dumped them into here, or did the Thalmor actually went down here with them?" asked Harry.

"I saw one or two entering this hole. Why?" asked Etienne.

Harry used his magicka one again, this time to detect any nearby life-forms. And it seemed that there was a large one nearby.

"We have company," muttered Harry. "Follow me."

Harry walked deep into the cavern, Etienne following him they reached an opening into a larger chamber below them, and below were not just many bones, but a Troll.

"Stand back," warned Harry as he prepared to attack the Troll below.

Knowing of the weakness of trolls, fire began gather around Harry, the young battlemage unleashing the storm of fire directly into the chamber below. The heat of the spell and the ensuring blast, made Etienne stumble backwards, the strong light making him cover his eyes. Harry could hear the troll bellow, grunting and roaring in pain, but it was soon silenced as the creature was consumed by the magical flames. When Harry finally stopped, and the flames diminished, all that remained was the burnt carcass of the troll. For good measure, Harry hurled a spike of ice at the corpse of the troll, impaling the dead beast.

"Come on," said Harry, as he jumped into a lower platform, before jumping into the cavern floor, soon followed by Etienne.

The two quickly left the cavern, finding themselves in a small pine tree forest.

"Finally! Out of that hellhole!" exclaimed Etienne as he took a deep breath. "Look, thanks for rescuing me."

Harry nodded. "Go on then. You're free now. Go back to doing… whatever it is you did before they captured you."

The odd way in which Harry said that did not escape Etienne, but the older man still nodded.

"Sure, I guess," he said, before turning towards a nearby road.

Yet as he left Harry, the former prisoner did not notice that he had a wand pointed towards him. For Harry, this was the obvious solution to a possible implication of himself in this mess. He had done the same to the two Thalmor back in the Solar's dungeons, and Etienne was not going to be an exception.

"Obliviate."

* * *

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

"Nothing? They know nothing? Are you sure about that?"

Harry handed Delphine the same note he had found back in the embassy, describing the status of their investigation.

"I am. However, one of their dossiers mentions a Blade called Esbern," said Harry to Delphine's shock. "And they're looking for him."

"Esbern? He's alive? I thought the Thamor had killed him years ago," said Delphine. "Figures they would be on his trail if they're trying to figure out what's going on with the dragons."

"Apparently, they believe he's hiding in Riften."

She hummed. "Riften… it's likely in the Ratway. That's where I would go, if I was a fugitive."

"How do I get to the Ratway?"

"There's an entrance down in the city's canals, near the market. I would be careful though, as the Ratway is filled with deranged people. Once down there, ask around a bar down there called Ragged Flagon. They may know something about it," suggested Delphine.

Harry nodded. "Will do."

"Oh, and when you find him, you may have some trouble getting him to trust you. Just ask him where he was on the 30th of Frostfall," she indicated. "He'll know what it means."

"I think I'll go alone then," he said. "I won't gather too much attention."

"Do be careful. It's likely that the Thalmor will have their agents looking for Esbern as well."

So, he was to keep an eye out for any suspicious individual. Thankfully, it would take days for news from the embassy to arrive at any Thalmor agents near Riften by normal means, which meant he had an advantage over them.

It would be best if he hurried up.

* * *

 **Riften, The Rift, Skyrim**

Finding the Ratway had been rather easy for Harry, its bowels however, had not been quite as easy to navigate. True to Delphine's word, the Ratway had been filled with too many of society's rejects, all of them quite willing and eager to kill him on sight. Unfortunately for them however, Harry had not been willing to lay down his life.

A path was carved, the bodies on the ground being markers for places he had already been to. And eventually, he found the entrance to what was supposed to be the Ragged Flaggon, a rather strange cistern which had been repurposed by its shadowy inhabitants, the kind of people whose mouths would certainly open by the right quantity of gold. The area was large, but quite empty, and the only relevant figure in the bar was, of course, the bartender.

"I'm looking for a man. An old man, hiding out somewhere in Riften," said Harry as he approached the counter. "I was told he could found somewhere around here."

The bartender could not look more uninterested. "Huh, lot of old guys around. I don't really know how I can help."

Harry's response was dropping a bag of Septims on top of the counter, a few coins falling from it. "Perhaps this may… refresh your memory."

The bartender took hold of the small bag.

"It does refresh my memory. I think I know the old guy you're looking for," said the Nord. "He's gotten himself holed up in the Warrens. Hardly leaves the place. Pays us to bring him food and the like, the crazy coot."

"And how does one go to the warrens?" asked Harry, to which the bartender pointed at a small hallway next to the counter.

"The door at the end. The Warrens are down there. Do be careful though, the lot down there isn't as stable as the rest you met up there in the Ratway."

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

No more words were spoken, and the young dragonborn quickly headed towards the Warrens, determined to find and rescue Esbern.


	34. Chapter 34

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

 _ ***Other Speech***_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 34 –A Wall for Esbern**_

 **Riften, The Rift, Skyrim**

Being part of Riften's sewer system, the lower ratway was far filthier and disgusting than the Ratway above. In Harry's journey into its depths, he walked past many bones, rotting rats, cobwebs, and small waterfalls of sewage. Eventually, he reached what seemed to be a rather peculiar fortress-like section, a bit cleaner than the others preceding it. It was mostly empty of life, a few small rats running around and hiding in the shadows.

Dawnbreaker shone upon these shadows, lighting the way for Harry as he descended into the Warrens. He had been expecting something far larger, but the chamber was relatively small. There was mostly silence, but he could hear the echoing of a female voice.

"Inkpot. Stone. Bucket. Book. Knife."

The voice came from behind a locked door, and he certainly wasn't going to intrude on whatever the woman was doing.

Harry looked around, trying to find a possible location for Esbern's hideout. There were a few chambers with barred doors, much like cells, but he manged to spot on the first floor, hidden away in a corner, a seemingly metallic door. He quietly approached it, and observed the door. It seemed oddly out of place in the warrens, and it looked like the sort of door someone would use to guard a vault of sorts.

In other words, it was perfect for a runaway and paranoid former Blade.

Harry pounded on the door three times with Dawnbreaker's hilt, and nearly jumped back seconds later when the slot on the door was opened, revealing a pair of eyes.

"Go away!" shouted the man behind the door.

The voice and the visible wrinkles suggested it was an old man, and possibly Esbern.

"Hold it," spoke Harry. "Are you Esbern?"

"What? No, that's not me!" said the man, clearly panicked. "I'm not Esbern. I don't know what you're talking about. Now, go away"

The man certainly wasn't going to open it at this rate. Now, what was it that Delphine had said before, about Frostfall?

"Delphine said for you to remember the 30th of Frostfall," he insisted.

The eyes behind the door looked at him in shock, the visible expression slowly turning into understanding.

"Delphine… ah, I do remember… indeed," said Esbern. "So she's alive, then?

Harry nodded. "And well."

"Then you better come in and tell me how you found me and what you want."

Esbern closed the slot, and began to undo the many locks on the door, rambling while doing so.

"This'll just take a moment... This one always sticks...there we go. Only a couple more. There we are!" said the former Blade as he managed to unlock the door, finally opening it. "Come in, come in!"

Harry hushed inside the room, Esbern locking the door behind him once again.

"Now we can talk. So, how did you know I was here?"

"I stole a few documents from the Thalmor, which led me to this place," said Harry. "Delphine sent me here to rescue you before the Thalmor managed to find you first."

"So, Delphine keeps up the fight, after all these years. I thought she'd have realized it's hopeless by now. I tried to tell her, years ago..."

Harry had little idea of what the man was talking about.

"What's hopeless?" he asked.

Esbern looked frustrated at Harry's question. "Haven't you figured it out yet? What else needs to happen before you all wake up and see what's going on? Alduin has returned, just like the prophecy said! The dragon from the…"

"Esbern wait!" interrupted Harry. "I know who Alduin is. I've seen him with my own two eyes, and I know the myths around him."

"Then you must know that he cannot be stopped, unless it is a Dragonborn. But there have been no Dragonborn for centuries. The end has begun, and nothing we can do will stop it."

A small, amused smile appeared on Harry's face.

"I'm afraid you're wrong."

Esbern looked at him befuddled. "I'm wrong?"

"You said there were no Dragonborn around. Well, I'm afraid that's a bit incorrect, you see," affirmed Harry. "I am Dragonborn."

The many emotions on the old man's face were visible to Harry, but shock stood as the most visible amongst all those.

"You… Dragonborn? Is it true?"

"Would I lie about this?" replied Harry.

The relief was visible on the old man's face, and for the first time in many years, Esbern felt hope.

"Then… then there is still hope! The gods have not abandoned us!" exclaimed the former Blade. "We must… we must…"

The young dragonborn watched as Esbern ran towards a desk filled with books and papers, and began to search for something.

"Erm, just give me a moment, I must gather a few things… I'll need this... No, no, useless trash... where'd I put my annotated Anuad? One moment, I know, time is of the essence, but mustn't leave secrets behind for the Thalmor... there's one more thing I must bring... Well, I guess that's good enough... let's be off."

Esbern had gathered a few books and papers, placing them inside of a bag.

"Take my hand," said Harry.

"I'm sorry?"

"You think we're walking from here to Whiterun Hold?" said the battlemage. "Not a chance. Grab my hand, I'll take us through magic."

Esbern reluctantly took Harry's wand, and as he did so, the Breton cast the spell of Recall, the two disappearing from the chamber in an instant.

* * *

 **Riverwood, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

The Recall spell brought the two into the secret basement of the Sleeping Giant Inn, no one being there at the moment.

"What is this place?" asked Esbern.

"Delphine's hideout," answered Harry. "She must be up there working. Wait a moment, I'll be right back with her."

Esbern nodded, and began to unload his high priority books on the table, readying himself to give a small lecture to both Harry and his old colleague. Harry returned moments later, Delphine accompanying him. Harry walked to the side, allowing the two to have their reunion.

"Delphine! It is good to see you," said the old loremaster. "It has been quite a long time."

The two hugged, Delphine feeling a great relief, almost as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"It's good to see you too Esbern. It has been too long, old friend… too long," she said. "Now then, I assume you know about…"

She motioned towards Harry, and the eyes of Esbern lit up in excitement.

"Ah yes, the Dragonborn! Indeed. This, of course, changes everything," said Esbern as he searched his books. "We have no time to lose, we must locate… let me show you… here it is!"

"What is it?" asked Harry as he approached the table.

The book which Esbern had opened showed a small map of Skyrim, and it highlighted a small mountainous island, a banner-like note reading 'Sky Haven Temple'.

"What's Sky Haven Temple?" asked Harry, assuming it was some sort of ancient fortress, similar to the ruined Cloud Ruler Temple near Bruma.

"One of the ancient Akaviri fortresses built during their conquest of Skyrim," explained the loremaster. "When they swore allegiance to Reman Cyrodiil and became the Dragonguard, Sky Haven became one of their many fortresses. After the fall of the Potentate, it was abandoned, and its location lost."

"It's right here on this book!" pointed out Delphine.

"I'm afraid I have no explanation as to why the Blades never sought out this temple, but the Annals do describe in small detail the temple's entry."

"That's the Reach, right?" inquired Harry. "I heard that area was infested with the native reachmen."

Delphine nodded. "Possibly the survivors of the Markarth Incident," she suggested. "But why are we interested in this temple?"

"It is where they built Alduin's Wall, to set down in stone their accumulated dragonlore… a hedge against the forgetfulness of centuries" explained Esbern.

"And what exactly do we want from Alduin's Wall? What does it have to do with this whole mess?" Harry asked.

"It was where the ancient Blades recorded all they knew of Alduin and his return. Part history, part prophecy. Its location has been lost for centuries, but as you can see, it's right there," continued the loremaster. "The old Blades forgot about it, but the archives held quite a few of their secrets."

"So it may tell us of how to defeat Alduin?" asked Delphine.

"Well... yes. But there's no guarantee, of course."

"Sky Haven Temple it is, then," decided Delphine. "I knew you'd have something for us, Esbern. Now, this area on the map… the only landmark that resembles a mountainous island in the Reach is Karthspire. It will take a while to get there from here, and we still have to deal with the natives."

Harry nodded. "Then we should get prepared for the travel."

* * *

Packing up the necessary things, Delphine and Esbern made use of Harry's bag to store them, leaving the basement quite empty of anything valuable. When they left, Delphine had left the inn to the bartender, apparently set on the belief that she would not return to Riverwood, something which Harry thought to be rather likely in the event of them finding the ancient Akaviri stronghold. The three had discussed the best way to travel to the Reach, if by foot, or by carriage. And since Harry would be accompanying them, the broom was out of question. A shame that he had no flying carpets, since those were illegal in Britain. A large one would have been rather useful in this situation, given the circumstances.

Travelling to Whiterun to get a carriage with Delphine and Esbern was rather risky, considering there could be Thalmor agents there, and Falkreath too was out of question. And Harry was not sure if a trinket enchanted with either invisibility or chameleon would be useful for a voyage where they would certainly talk. But still, they eventually decided that they would get to the Reach by carriage. Uthgerd was accompanying them as well, which increased the cost, but it was no concern for Harry.

The voyage to Markarth took them four days, the group having to stop for rest and food, but eventually they reached the capital of the Reach. Once there, the four headed straight to the Karth River canyon, where the island was located. It took a few hours to reach it, but once they reached it, the scenario was not what they had been expecting.

"By the gods… look at this place?" uttered Delphine.

Where there had been once a multitude of wooden platforms above the river, likely a Forsworn camp, was now nothing but a bunch of ruins, many charred corpses littering the area. In a few areas, the fire was still going.

"By the scale of the destruction, I would say a dragon attacked this place," suggested Harry.

"Then where it it?" wondered Uthgerd.

The sound of a roar in the distance signalled the dragon's presence, and the flap of wings was soon heard, the dragon which had likely attacked the camp appearing from behind the mountain, the presence of the four becoming apparent to it.

The dragon flew past them as Harry, Delphine and Uthgerd prepared their weapons, while Esbern, not himself a warrior and not in a proper state to fight, moved away to a safer location.

 _ **"Yol Toor Shul!"**_

The shout was directed at the three, the group evading the fire. The proximity of the dragon allowed Delphine to shoot several arrows at it, a few hitting their target, while Harry used a variety of spells against their opponent.

It suddenly landed near them, trying another strategy. Yet to this, Harry had too a response.

" _ **Fus Ro!"**_

The dragon was pushed back by the force of Harry's shout, stunning it momentarily.

" _ **Wuld!"**_

As Harry rushed forward at great speed, he unsheathed Dawnbreaker, striking the dragon at a very close range. As it attempted to take flight, Harry plunged the sword on its neck, effectively stopping the dragon. It roared in pain, and Harry stabbed its neck once more with Dawnbreaker, the wounds being enough to kill the dragon.

"That was quick," said Delphine as she approached Harry.

Esbern too had left his hiding place, and was approaching them. As he did so, the dragon's body began to burn up, its soul being absorbed by Harry.

"Amazing… its power is yours now…" whispered the loremaster as he watched. "You truly are the Dragonborn of prophecy."

"Well, that's a confirmation for you," said Harry. "Now, let get moving."

And so they did. Crossing the small river into the Karthspire had been rather easy, and curiously enough, an ancient stairway was near them, leading into a cavern. They entered it, prepared for any sort of enemy within. Oddly enough, there were none. While there was inside part of what had been the Forsworn camp, no reachmen were to be found. Instead, they moved deeper into the cavern, eventually reaching an open area with very curious structures, which were certainly not of reachmen origin.

"I think we found the place," said Harry.

"Yes, definitely early Akaviri stonework here," said Esbern as they climbed up a ramp into a small natural platform with three strange pillars.

On the other side, what seemed to be the bridge they needed to continue on their path.

"We need to get this bridge down," said Delphine. "These pillars must have something to do with it."

Esbern observed said pillars, deciphering their purpose. Each had a small plaque, all three with a distinct emblem.

"These are Akaviri symbols. Let's see… you have the symbol for 'king', for 'warrior'… and of course, the symbol for 'dragonborn'," said Esbern, pointing to the third pillar. "The one with an arrow shape pointing downward."

He pressed one of the other pillars, the small mechanism rotating, revealing one of the three symbols. The puzzle was rather simple, Esbern easily giving them passage. They walked across the bridge, and entered a chamber filled with pressure plates. Delphine had the decency to warn them, being the first to reach the chamber, and Esbern too, had been the one to point out that this one would likely be solved by walking solely on the ones with the 'dragonborn' symbol.

Harry tested out that hypothesis, which turned out to be correct. One more obstacle had been removed, and the four soon reached a wide space, with a large statue representing someone's head on the wall.

"Wonderful! Remarkably well-preserved, too," commented Esbern, who quickly noticed the circular alter on the floor. "Ah! And this is the blood seal, another of the lost Akaviri arts. No doubt triggered by...well, blood. Your blood, Dragonborn."

Harry was a bit more curious about the large face. "What's the head?"

"That would be Reman Cyrodiil, whom the ancient Blades revered. This whole place appears to be a shrine to Reman," said the loremaster.

Harry could not help but notice that if this was in fact an accurate representation of his ancestor, then Reman Cyrodiil was a rather gaunt individual.

"So, the last of the Remans enters a temple dedicated to the first one," he said. "Rather… poetic, no?"

That had been new to Esbern.

"Last of the Remans?"

"I'll explain later," said Harry. "I'm supposed to drop my blood here, yes?"

The loremaster nodded. "Well, yes. At least that's how the Annals describe it."

Harry took out a small but quite sharp dagger, and cut the tip of his finger, before storing the dagger away. He made pressure on the small wound, a few drops of blood falling on the centre of the altar. As soon as they touched it, a white glow came from the blood seal, and Harry quickly moved away from it, the structure rearranging itself to show a pattern, which he quickly recognized as the Akaviri symbol for 'dragonborn'.

As soon as it was done, the statue of Reman's head began to retract, revealing a stairway and a large door.

"There's the entrance. After you, Dragonborn. You should have the honour of being the first to set foot in Sky Haven Temple," declared Delphine.

Harry nodded.

"Do be careful," warned Esbern. "There's no telling what we might find inside."

He entered the temple, finding even more stairs. There was a strong breeze and light coming from above, and Harry quickly made way into the main hall of the Temple, ignoring what Delphine and Esbern were saying. The hall was certainly large, a table-like structure in the middle, and near it, a peculiar looking sculpture.

"Shor's bones! Here it is! Alduin's Wall... so well preserved," uttered Esbern as he walked past Harry. "I've never seen a finer example of early second era Akiviri sculptural relief..."

"What can we learn from this?" asked Harry.

"The Akaviri were not a straightforward people. Much of their artistic works are couched in allegory and mythic symbolism," said Esbern.

"Then we should not rush this," he declared. "We don't want to make mistakes, after all. You should settle yourselves in, rest a bit, and then, you can decipher the wall."

"Well, yes, of course," said the loremaster. "It will certainly take quite a while to properly decipher the wall…"

"I agree," said Delphine. "I'll scout the temple and set this as the new headquarters of the Blades. But the translation may take quite a while. What will you do?"

"I think I'll return to Solitude, to check on how things are going for the Empire and to see if there are any other news," he declared. "I'll also see if there have been any other dragon attacks as well. Say, Uthgerd, would you mind if you stayed here to help Delphine? Another pair of hands would useful, no?"

"I suppose I could help. Are you sure you won't need my help?" asked the Nord.

Harry shook his head. "Nah, I'll be fine."

They said their temporary goodbyes, Harry leaving the temple alone. The young battlemage had set his course for Solitude, and he could only hope that he would have good news there.


	35. Chapter 35

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 35 – Wolfskull Cave**_

 **Solitude, Haafingar Hold, Skyrim**

The capital of Skyrim was cold, but the skies above it were as blue as the domes of the Blue Palace. Such was the weather when Harry arrived at the city, heading straight to Castle Dour. When he entered the fortress, the young Breton walked straight towards the war room, where Tullius would likely be. He entered it, finding the Colovian general observing the map.

"Good evening, General," said Harry as he approached the man.

"Cyrodiil?" spoke Tullius, startled by the unannounced and quite unexpected arrival of Harry. "You return at a rather promising time."

"Really? Why exactly?" he asked.

Tullius pointed towards a letter on top of the table. "I received that missive a few hours ago, from Legate Constantius Tituleius. The Legion forces in the Pale took control of a few ruined forts near Dawnstar, and moved to take control of the city," he announced. "Skald has been removed as the Jarl of the Pale, and has been replaced by Brina Merilis."

"Who?"

That name was not familiar at all to Harry, so the question has to be asked.

"She's a retired legate – fought in the Great War," clarified Tullius. "Apparently, she is quite popular in Dawnstar, and the people there supported her as the replacement of Skald as the new Jarl."

"That excellent. So, now we're left with both Winterhold and Eastmarch, right?" asked Harry.

"It seems that way. To the south of Windhelm, we have the Legion stationed at the borders of the Rift, and as we speak, legionnaires are gathering at the borders of Winterhold," said Tullius. "Rikke is currently at our hidden camp in Eastmarch, overseeing the forces we have managed to sneak in there, and preparing our battle plans. We will join her once Winterhold is taken."

"I thought Winterhold held little strategic value," commented Harry. "As far as I know, the only thing of worth up there is the College."

"In its current state, it is," said Tullius. "But we cannot suffer that Ulfric remains with any proper allies on the holds of Skyrim. Once isolated, and with no possibility of reinforcements, it will be far easier to besiege Windhelm."

Harry nodded, understanding the basic plan of Tullius. "Any other news?"

"Not much at the moment. We have had some of those… what do you call them, Lamp Knights, prodding around in Solitude. But other than that, not much."

The Lamp Knights? What exactly had brought them to Solitude? Could it be that they found evidence of a Worm Nest in the region? It was quite possible, considering the persistence of the Black Worm in their endeavours.

"Any idea where they were?" he asked.

"I saw them when I was at the Blue Palace earlier," he said. "They went there for an audience with Jarl Elisif, wanting to know something about a Wolfskull Cave."

That name was certainly not ominous.

"I guess I'll go and see the Jarl then."

Harry left the Castle, heading to the Blue Palace. The trip to the structure was rather long, but eventually, the young battlemage reached it, finding the court still in session, and Elisif sitting at the throne.

"Greetings, Jarl Elisif," Harry said as he approached the throne.

"Regent Cyrodiil, we were not expecting you," said the woman. "What brings you here?"

"I spoke with General Tullius minutes ago, and he told me that a group of Lamp Knights had requested an audience with you, am I correct?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Well, then as Grandmaster of the Lamp Knight, may I know exactly what they wanted? I was told they inquired about some place called Wolfskull Cave, but beyond that, I know nothing."

"Your knights desired information regarding the cave, and if we had any information regarding its layout," said Falk Firebeard. "We told them about its connection with Potema, and whatever else we had."

" _Potema? Oh dear…"_

Harry knew that name very well, from both historical records and works of fiction. The involvement of a figure like the Wolf-Queen in anything was certainly not good… not good at all. Especially considering the reason for her infamy.

"Did they tell you why they wanted this information?" asked Harry.

"They spoke of a Worm Cult taking residence in the ruins inside the cave, and how they were planning to assault them," said Elisif. "They left as soon as they had the information."

Then that just meant he would be joining them at the cave.

"And where is this Wolfskull Cave?" he asked.

"The cave is located north of Meridia's shrine," said the court wizard. "Just follow the road from Solitude to Dragon Bridge and you will eventually see the shrine."

Harry nodded.

"Thank you for your assistance," he said. "I shall return later with news."

* * *

Harry left the Blue Palace, determined to reach Wolfskull Cave and assist his Lamp Knights in any way possible. As soon as he was out of the and in the wilderness, Harry got on his broom, and flew above the road to Dragon Bridge. In the way, he eventually came upon the ruins of Meridia's temple, her statue still intact atop a large and snow-filled platform.

Despite being a devout follower of the Lady of Infinite Energies, he would have to delay his visit to her temple for now, as he had other matters to concern himself with. Considering that these matters involved the destruction of a cult of necromancers, he had the feeling that this would fall under the desires of his Daedric patron.

As he scouted the area near the temple, Harry came upon a small encampment near a cave, and he recognized the banner there, as well as the gear worn by the people there. He descended into the forest, and storing his broom away, Harry approached the camp.

"Hail, knights!" he said, approaching them.

The Lamp Knights turned towards Harry, surprised by the appearance of their Grand Master.

"Grand Master Reman! We were not expecting you," said a Dunmer, whom Harry recognized as one of the Knight-Commanders.

"I heard of your presence and mission here from the Blue Palace," he said. "You are Tedryn Dulo, right?"

"I am, serjo," said Tedryn. "We were scouting this region of Skyrim when we came upon the village of Dragon Bridge. The people there spoke of strange lights coming from this cave, and black robed figures in the area, so we decided to investigate."

"Is it a Worm Nest?"

The Dunmer nodded. "We have taken control of part of the cavern's upper corridors, but have yet to enter the inner sanctum. We found several Worm Cultists and their thralls. All slain, but now without losses of our own."

"Their sacrifice will not be in vain," declared Harry. "When will the attack proceed?"

"We were planning to send an emissary to Solitude and ask for the help of guards, but your arrival may change the tide of the battle," suggested Tedryn.

"Perhaps. Are your forces ready for battle?" he asked.

"They are Grand Master," affirmed the Dunmer. "At your signal, we shall strike."

Harry entered the cave, followed by the Knight-Commander and the knights stationed outside. They all proceeded into the depths of the cavern, passing by pockets of knights who joined them. Eventually, they reached an area guarded by knights, specifically, a large hole in the ground, leading into what seemed to be a bunch of collapsed ruins below.

"Has anyone ventured down there?" asked Harry.

Tedryn shook his head. "No. We stopped our advance here to heal the hounded and establish a makeshift base here."

"Well then, time to move in," said Harry, casting upon himself and the others a levitation spell.

The Lamp Knights descended into the hole, and true to what they assumed, down there were more ruins. But more importantly, a strange sound came from within the dark corridors of the cavern, similar to a strong gust of wind. Harry took out his sword, and advanced further into the cavern, followed by the knights. His path was finally stopped when they reached a cliff, overlooking what remained of a once large underground stronghold.

The main feature of said stronghold was a tower, above it a large glowing blue orb, many streams of a strange blue energy being absorbed by said orb.

"What in Oblivion are they doing?" spoke Tedryn.

Harry himself could not tell. It seemed to be some sort of ritual, as he could see figures atop the tower, their hands raised.

"Wolf Queen, hear our call and awaken," said a female voice, echoing through the large chamber. "We summon Potema!"

The other necromancers followed. "We summon Potema!"

"Oh... bugger," hissed Harry. "This isn't good."

"Potema? Potema Septim?" asked the Dunmer.

Harry simply nodded, before looking at the ruins below, trying to see the best way to attack them. First, he used magic to silence their movement, before making himself and the knights invisible. The strategy was simple. Half would attack from below, while the others would attack by levitating themselves into the fortress, Harry being amongst these. Yet as levitating forces approached the upper battlements, the blue orb became brighter, and a new and far powerful voice was heard, shaking the very ground.

"Yes! Yes! Return me to this realm!"

Without a doubt, that was the voice of Potema, which meant those necromancers were succeeding in their ritual.

"As our voices summon you, the blood of the innocent binds you Wolf Queen!" said the female voice from before, likely the necromancer who was leading the ritual.

It was then that Harry and the others realized what the Worm Cult was attempting to do, and they were quite certain Potema would not be pleased with it.

"Summoned with words, bounds by blood!" said the other necromancers.

And they were right.

"What! What are you doing, you fools? You cannot bind me to your wills!" shouted the summoned spirit, making the ground shake even more.

"Summoned with words, bound by blood!" they repeated.

"You ants don't have the power to bind me!" snarled the Wolf-Queen.

At this rate, the would have to be quick. If the cultists managed to bind Potema, then he would not even want to think about the kind of advantage those imbeciles would have. On the other hand, if Potema managed to free herself from this ritual, then she would be… well, free. Neither prospect was very appealing to the young Grand Master of the Lamp Knights.

When they landed on the battlements, Harry began the attack, casting spells of defence upon himself and his allies, striking against the nearby thralls and their masters, who had been caught by surprise by the attack. Above and below, spells were cast and deflected, both by the attackers and the defenders, and while the numbers were on the side of the Worm Nest due to their small undead army, each time a necromancer was killed, their hold on the thralls fell, and so did the necromantic creatures.

Part of the necromancers who had been performing the ritual had went down to stop the Lamp Knights, but all were slain by either Harry, his summoned Aurorans, or the other knights. As soon as the path was clear, Harry ran to the tower's pinnacle, finding there only one necromancer, who seemed to be in a trance, attempting to hold the binding ritual over the summoned spirit of Potema. With Dawnbreaker at his hand, Harry stroke, severing the necromancer's head from her body. With no one else to keep the ritual active, the spirit of Potema was unbound, yet instead of simply disappearing, it escaped the cavern through a hold in the celling, heading into the unknown.

And while they had managed to exterminate this Worm Nest, Harry had no doubt that this whole mess with the Wolf Queen was not quite over yet.


	36. Chapter 36

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 36 – The Hunt**_

 **Solitude, Haafingar Hold, Skyrim**

The court of Solitude was in silence as Harry told of the event which took place within Wolfskull Cave. The news of necromancers within the cave had not been new to them, but their goals were, and the fact that the Lamp Knights had prevented the possible summoning and binding of Potema were very good news for them. As a reward for their actions, they were given a rather admirable amount of gold, the majority of which had been dedicated to the Order's treasury, while the rest was split amongst the surviving knights.

The Worm Nest destroyed, Harry commanded these Lamp Knights to continue their task to root out any more necromancers they could find in the region, and to seek out the headquarters of the Black Worm.

Alas, his work for Skyrim was not done yet.

"Forgive us, Regent Cyrodiil," said the Jarl. "But we require your assistance in one more issue."

"You do?" he asked, wondering what exactly the Jarl of Solitude could want.

Elisif nodded. "We have received… disturbing reports from the other holds of Skyrim, regarding this dragon crisis."

Anything regarding the dragons certainly was worth in interest, considering the current situation.

"What kind of reports?" he asked.

"Many settlements and villages across Skyrim have been attacked by these creatures," said Falk. "There's nothing left but ashes and burnt carcasses. We are told you are the Dragonborn of legend, the ultimate hunter of dragons. And for that, we require your assistance in ridding Skyrim of these beasts."

He would be hunting dragons then… well, he had some free time, considering that Esbern would take a while to decipher the wall. Not to mention he had to make sure he would not get rusty during that period. There was also the little factor of absorbing the souls of other dragons, which added to his knowledge and strength. His answer was practically given from the start.

"Just point me in the right direction."

* * *

In the week that followed, it was not unusual to see an unusual dot flying around in the skies of Skyrim. Harry scouted the lands of the Northern Province, seeking out any dragons he could find. And the young Cyrodiil did found dragons in his search, and he too fought with them. Their size and aspect slightly varied, with some being moderately sized, while others were large that their wings could cover an entire house. Of all he fought, few were managed to fit this last description, yet they did not fail in being powerful. Although Harry was sure that they did not reach the power which Alduin possessed, and he had to admit he was not looking forward to facing the World-Eater.

With each dragon he killed, and their soul taken into his own, Harry's knowledge of the dragon tongue and shouts increased to relatively powerful high levels, and by consequence, so did his knowledge of how dragons worked, and their curious beliefs. It was truly fascinating the amount of importance that the Dovah placed in the "self", and Harry began to believe he was slowly understanding the reasons why. But for the moment, his focus was on ending the threat these dragons posed to the people of Skyrim, and by extension, Tamriel. He was certain that given enough time, they would begin to expand beyond the borders of Skyrim, and into the other provinces.

That, he could not allow.

* * *

Having hunted down and killed several dragons, Harry returned to Solitude, seeking any more news available. Anything sent to him would be directed to Castle Dour, so that's where he headed. General Tullius too was a good source of information regarding the issues of the Empire in Skyrim, but right now, he was not much concerned with the rebellion.

"A courier arrived two days ago with a letter for you," said the General. "It's on that desk over there."

Tullius pointed at a desk in the corner of the war room, and Harry went towards it, taking out the letter from one of the drawers. It was sealed in red wax, and the symbol there was that of the Potter Signet Ring.

" _What does grandfather want?"_ he wondered, unsealing the letter.

* * *

 _Dear grandson,_

 _It is imperative that you return quickly to Sancre Tor, as events which have taken place on our homeland pose a threat to your wellbeing. I do not know if this can be safely ignored or not, but for your sake, come to Cyrodiil as soon as you can. Due to the seriousness of this predicament, I cannot reveal further details on this letter._

 _Hoping you are in good health,_

 _Fleamont Potter_

* * *

Well… his grandfather was certainly not a man to do things like this randomly, especially considering what was at stake. If Fleamont Potter thought this to be an urgent matter, then it certainly was one. And there was only one way to figure out what was happening.

* * *

 **Sancre Tor, Colovia, Cyrodiil**

Having recalled himself back to Cyrodiil, Harry instantly arrived inside his private study in Sancre Tor. To his luck, his grandfather was already there, likely having "taken over" the study during his absence.

"Oh, bloody hell Harry!" protested the old man, having been startled by the sudden appearance of his grandson. "You'll send me to an early grave at this rate!"

Harry chuckled in amusement and slightly in apology. "Heh, sorry."

Fleamont frowned. "Now, I assume you received my letter?"

The Cyrodiil nodded. "I have. What happened?"

"What do you know of the Triwizard Tournament?" asked Fleamont.

"Not much. It was a competition between magic schools, right?"

Fleamont nodded. "Indeed it was. It was banned a few centuries ago due to the high number of fatalities, but that idiot Ludo Bagman thought it to be a good idea to revive the tournament!"

"Ok, but what does that have to do with me?" inquired Harry.

"As the name suggests, the tournament consists of three schools, each having its own champion to participate. This year, the participating schools were Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang," explained the Potter patriarch. "A few days ago, the three champions were chosen by an artefact called the Goblet of Fire. The thing is Harry, beyond the three normal champions, the goblet also gave two other names."

Harry could see where this was going, and he was not pleased with it.

"And mine came out from the Goblet, right?"

At Fleamont's nod, Harry groaned in irritation.

"Your brother was selected too," informed the man. "No one knows how it happened, but Dumbledore and the Ministry claim that all those chosen by the Goblet of Fire are automatically placed under a magical contract, forcing them to participate in the tournament."

"And what happens if I break this contract?"

Fleamont shrugged. "No one really knows. Perhaps you may die… or rendered comatose… there are many possibilities, none of them desireable."

Harry paced around the room, deep in thought. The situation in Tamriel was less than orderly, with the dragons, the Worm Cult, and the rebels giving him little time to breathe freely. On the other hand, he would not place himself at risk by breaking something that could end his life. It seemed that he would have to participate on this Triwizard Tournament, but he would not do so without having certain guarantees.

"Come with me, grandfather," said Harry as he walked towards the exit.

"Where to?" asked the man, following his grandson.

"Earth."

* * *

 **Hogwarts School, Cadfield, Scotland (U.K.)**

Dumbledore had certainly not been expecting such a turn of events. What had been "planned" to be a normal year, excluding the re-introduction of the Triwizard Tournament, was already revealing itself to be the exact opposite, considering who was involved. Still, the old headmaster could not help but feel that such a thing was to be expected, considering how easily Michael and Harry Potter encountered trouble, even in the most normal of situations.

But for the two to have been somehow selected by the Goblet of Fire to participate in the Tournament… it either was some student with a poor sense of humour, or some participant of a plot against the Potters. Nevertheless, the old headmaster could see how this was affecting the Potter family, or at least those that remained on Earth. James and Lily were worried beyond measure due to the risk of the event, but Michael mostly seemed to be brooding, likely due to how his fellow students reacted to his unexpected selection.

Even now, as the inhabitants of Hogwarts ate their lunch, the headmaster still pondered on the extraordinary circumstances of this selection. Until of course, the doors of the Great Hall were opened without any warning.

The eyes of all fell on the two newcomers, but more specifically, on the one which was clad in a strange golden armour, and had a red amulet at his neck. The figure was rather familiar to many, but somehow it was… different. The other one, of course, was easily recognizable, Fleamont Potter being a well-known individual amongst wizards.

"We were not expecting a visit from you, Lord Cadfield," said Dumbledore formally. "Nor from your grandson."

There was much confusion. Grandson? As far as everyone knew, Fleamont Potter had only one son, and his oldest grandson was not even sixteen years old yet. Of course, they did not know the truth, but Dumbledore and a few others did. They knew who this figure was, and why he was here.

Harry walked towards the platform where the staff table was, his face showing little emotion, perhaps a hint of annoyance. Chim-El Adabal was glowing red, the fires within the red diamond burning with the collective fury of the Cyrodiils.

"Our visit is indeed unexpected… to a certain point," said Harry. "The entrapping of the Aurbis calls for my return. The sooner we solve this, the better."

Dumbledore nodded, getting up from his chair and approaching the podium.

"Allow me to introduce the fifth champion… Harry Potter!"


	37. Chapter 37

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note:**_

So, I've spent a few hours reading this fan fic from start to "finish", and decided to make a few changes. Not to the general plotline, but mostly aesthetic. Keyword, mostly. Major changes include the removal of Harry's younger twin brothers, the change of "Harrison" to "Henry", fitting with his pseudo-Breton background, and changing "Charlus" to "Fleamont", fitting with his canonical grandparents, with the addition of my fan-fictional background of the Potters. Lesser changes were made to the narrative, nothing that changes the already established plot, but significant enough that I would suggest you readers to read this whole thing again from the start.

You may also have noticed that I have changed the story's image, and removed the "(REWRITE)" label from its title. Well, the original story has been permanently deleted from this site, but you can still read it in Archive of Our Own. It's there for "archiving purposes".

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 37 – The Champion**_

 **Hogwarts School, Cadfield, Scotland (U.K.)**

Michael was taken aback by the figure of his brother. When his parents had told him that Harry changed, he had not expected this kind of change. Harry's hair was as messy as it had been, but his face now was slightly gaunt, an odd change in his brother's physique. In this, he was more accepting of the current reality of things, but his fellow students were not quite believing that the man in front of Dumbledore could possibly be Harry Potter.

"Potter? Harry Potter?" said McGonagall, approaching the no longer child, eying from top to bottom. "Merlin's beard! What happened to you?"

"I've aged," he responded. "As you can see."

"That much is obvious!" she said. "But how?"

"How does one age, Professor?"

Dumbledore decided to step forward. "Mr. Potter's current predicament will be explained later. For now, we have here the fifth champion. But that raises an issue."

"Of course it raises an issue," barked Karkaroff. "Hogwarts has three champions!"

"That is something I hope to rectify," said Harry. "Is there truly no way for me to withdraw from this tournament."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. The contract which the Goblet establishes is binding and permanent. It must be fulfilled, and only then are the champions released from it."

"I see," muttered Harry. "Who is the proper champion of Hogwarts?"

"Cedric Diggory," answered the headmaster.

"Then, by which school were me and my brother chosen?"

"The pieces of parchment had two false institutions," answered Dumbledore. "You two being regarded as champions of Hogwarts, comes from both being students here."

"But I am not a student here. Well, not anymore, that is. Then who am supposed to represent?"

" **Me, of course."**

The voice had come from nowhere, but Harry recognized it instantly. Near them, a bright light emerged, momentarily blinding those near it. From within the light, appeared a female ghostly figure, floating a few centimetres above the floor. At this, Harry immediately knelt before the apparition.

"Lady Meridia."

The appearance of the Daedric Prince had not been expected by Harry, for even he was in question about how exactly had Meridia managed to enter this realm. The others however, were either stunned by this strange spirit, or frightened by its appearance.

" **Rise, my champion"** ordered Meridia. **"Bask in my light."**

"Harry," nearly whispered Dumbledore. "Who is this?"

"This is Meridia, one of the Princes of Oblivion," explained Harry. "Goddess of Light and Infinite Energies. One of the deities I worship."

" **As it should be, champion,"** she declared. **"I have been observing your works against the Worm Cult, and I find myself impressed by such devotion. This pleases Meridia."**

"I thank you, my lady," said Harry. "But, may I ask… how is it that you are here? This is an entirely different realm of reality, separate from the Aurbis."

" **The link between this universe and ours, together with the presence of Dawnbreaker, allow for my presence here,"** she declared. **"Unbound by Compact or Covenant, I am absolute in this realm of existence. Although I find it… plain."**

Harry nodded, and Dumbledore approached the apparition.

"Lady… Meridia, then Harry shall be your champion in this tournament?" he asked.

" **Indeed mortal. The participation of my champion on this event works greatly in my favour, even if such a thing is beyond your understanding,"** she stated, turning to her champion. **"Reman, display the glory of Meridia's chosen to these mortals, and you shall receive my favour."**

"It shall be done, my Lady," he said.

The apparition of Meridia disappeared, the light in the room diminishing.

"Incredible…" whispered Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, I would return to Cyrodiil," said Harry. "Would you please inform my grandfather when the first event of the tournament takes place?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course."

Harry smiled, turning to his grandfather. "Do you stay, or return."

"I'll remain here for now," said Fleamont. "You go ahead."

Harry nodded, and in an instant, the young Cyrodiil vanished in a wave of purplish light, the magicka of the Aurbis not bound by the rules of the native wizards of Earth.

* * *

 **Solitude, Haafingar Hold, Skyrim**

Having recalled himself back to Fort Reman, Harry entered the portal, and once on the other side, he immediately recalled himself into Solitude. Considering the days, he had spent hunting dragons, he at last had the opportunity to see if something important had happened.

"Greetings General," he said, upon entering the war room.

"Cyrodiil," replied Tullius. "I heard you were out there hunting dragons."

Harry nodded. "I was, yes. Any news from this side of Skyrim?"

"Quite. We're one step away from Windhelm."

"Huh? How so?"

"Due to a disaster which occurred up there, Winterhold has little to no defences," said the general. "Rikke and Sevan Telendas took control of the usable forts surrounding what remains of the city, and proceeded to depose the Jarl there."

So Winterhold was now theirs. That was very good. That meant he now could access the College without having to pass through rebel controlled territory.

"Who's the Jarl now?"

"Some sod called Kraldar," said Tullius. "Apparently, he is in good relations with the College there, unlike his predecessor."

"Smart man," affirmed Harry. "What your next move?"

"We're preparing to attack Eastmarch on all sides. Legate Fasendil in Riften is already preparing to march there, Cipius in Whiterun as well, while Rikke is joining Legate Hrollod at our camp in Eastmarch," explained Tullius. "Part of our forces in Dawnstar will also advance upon Windhelm, and once we're in with good conditions to lay siege upon Windhelm, I'll join Rikke at the camp."

Harry nodded. "I'm still seeking ways to stop these dragon attacks. I've found a few valuable allies, and I'm waiting for one of them to translate one of our findings. Hopefully, it will be soon."

"Very well. Oh, you have a new letter. It's in the desk."

Harry walked towards the desk, opening a drawer, and taking out another letter addressed to him. Oddly enough, it was from Victoria Vici. What in Oblivion did that woman want? He unsealed the letter, and read its contents, being surprised by the fact that he had been invited to her wedding in Solitude. Well, not exactly an invitation, but more of a request for him to attend, considering that the letter stated that the ceremony was open to the public.

However, it would take place in a few weeks from now, so he had no need to concern himself with it. For now, he had to focus on the dragons, and how to defeat the World-Eater.

* * *

 **Sky Haven Temple, The Reach, Skyrim**

Harry climbed the steps into the old fortress, finding a rather peculiar sight in front of him. His old companion was sitting at the large stone "table", fully dressed in an old styled Akaviri armour, very likely from the Second Empire. He had seen sets of the armour used by the Blades of the Septims, but the style was rather different compared to this one.

The one Uthgerd was wearing, he had only seen in images from old books.

"You look good Uthgerd," he said, approaching his old friend. "I like your new style."

She turned around, greeting Harry. "Hello Henry. Delphine found several of these in the armoury. A bit more comfortable than my previous armour."

"So you like it?"

"Somewhat. Still, my new job requires me to wear it."

That had surprised Harry.

"New job? You've joined the Blades?"

Uthgerd nodded. "Delphine suggested it, and I accepted. Better to fall in battle against a dragon, than against a drunk fool in a bar brawl."

"Well said," approved Harry. "How goes Esbern's translation?"

"He says the important part is done," said Uthgerd. "He's right there."

She pointed at the wall, Esbern sitting in a small study he estsblished right next to Alduin's Wall. Harry nodded, and walked towards the old man, who noticed his approach.

"Ah, Dragonborn, you come at the right time," said the old man, getting up. "I believe I found what we were looking for."

"And?"

Esbern beckoned him to follow, leading Harry to the start of the wall.

"Now, see, this panel speaks of the time when Alduin and his Dagon Cult ruled over Skyrim. It then shows how the people rebelled against them, leading to the legendary Dragon Way," explained Esbern pointing to the engravings. "Here at the centre we have Alduin, falling from the skies. His defeat at the hands of the old Tongues, the ancient masters of the Voice."

"So, how did they defeat him?" asked Harry.

"According to this symbol here, the Akaviri indicate that Alduin was defeated by a Shout, but…"

"But?"

"They do not specify which Shout was used," he admitted. "The rest of the wall does not give any insight into it as well."

"So we're looking for a specific shout then…"

If the ancient Dragonguard had no idea which Shout had been used, then only a certain group could know.

It was time to return to High Hrothgar.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: **_

The Akaviri armour and weapons found in the Sky Haven Temple resemble those present in ESO, as those are closer to the time of the Second Empire, compared to the Blades. Besides, I love the armour styles present in ESO, even though the opportunity to play it has not presented itself to me.


	38. Chapter 38

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts / Mental speech"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 38 – Paarthurnax**_

 **High Hrothgar, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

Harry opened the doors into the old monastery, finding no one within the entrance hall. There was no sound of footsteps or anything of the sort, so the young Breton ventured into one of the corridors, entering what seemed to be a small library of sorts. There were two of the Greybeards there, both reading, and one of them had been the one Harry had been seeking.

"Dragonborn, you return to High Hrothgar," said Arngeir upon noticing Harry, rising from the chair he sat upon. "What brings you here?"

"Master Arngeir, do you perhaps know of a Shout used long ago to defeat Alduin?"

That seemed to be the wrong thing to ask.

"Where did you learn of that?" demanded the Greybeard. "Who have you been talking to?"

If there was something Harry could not understand, was the sudden hostility of Arngeir.

"The Akaviri spoke of it on Alduin's Wall."

Arngeir shook his head. "The Blades, of course! They specialize in meddling in matters they barely understand. Their reckless arrogance knows no bounds," he protested. "They have always sought to turn the Dragonborn from the path of wisdom. Have you learned nothing from us? Would you simply be a tool in the hands of the Blades, to be used for their own purposes?"

Okay. For some reason he was missing, it seemed that the Greybeards and the Blades were not exactly in good terms. That wasn't good.

For him, that is.

"What? They've been helping me, nothing more," affirmed Harry. "All we seek is a way to stop the dragons from slaughtering everyone."

Arngeir sighed. "No, of course, not. Forgive me, Dragonborn, for my intemperance. But know that while the Blades claim that they serve the Dragonborn, they do not. They never have."

"I'll be the judge of that," he said. "But do you know it?"

"No. None of us do. It is called Dragonrend, but knowledge of its Words of Power were lost before history began," said the Greybeard. "Perhaps only its creators ever knew of it. We do not regret its loss. This Shout holds no place within the Way of the Voice."

"Why?"

"It was created by those who had lived under the unimaginable cruelty of Alduin's Dragon Cult. Their whole lives were consumed with hatred for dragons, and they poured all their anger and hatred into Dragonrend," affirmed Arngeir. "When learning a Shout, you take it into your very being. In a sense, you become the Shout. By learning and using this Shout, you would be taking this evil into yourself."

He could see why the Greybeards were against the use of this Shout, but from what he saw, it was proving to be a necessary evil.

"So… how exactly am I supposed to defeat Alduin?" he asked.

"Only our leader, Paarthurnax, can answer that question, if he so chooses."

That was a name he had heard before. Oddly enough, the name seemed to be familiar, but in another way. Almost as if… could Paarthurnax be…

"But where is your leader?" he ashed. "Shouldn't he be here in the monastery?"

Arngeir shook his head. "Paarthurnax is not one for closed spaces. He meditates atop the mountain, and speaks to us rarely, and never to outsiders."

"Then how can I speak to him?"

From what he had seen, the area above High Hrothgar was filled with snow storms and mist. It was practically impossible to even fly up there with his broom.

"You were not ready before, and still you are not," declared Arngeir. "But thanks to the Blades, you have questions only Paarthurnax can answer. And only those who Voice is strong can find the path to reach him. For that we will teach you a Shout to open the way to Paarthurnax. Come with me, Dragonborn."

Harry followed Arngeir and the other three Greybeards into the courtyard of the monastery. There, he saw once again the archway which led into a previously unexplored section of the mountain, blocked by a strong wind and mist. It did not take long for the Greybeards to instruct him in the use of a Shout they called "Clear Skies".

"This is your final gift from us, Dragonborn. Use it well," said Arngeir upon instructing Harry. "Clear Skies will blow away the mist, but only for a time. The path ahead is perilous, not to be embarked upon lightly. Keep moving, stay focused on your goal, and you will reach the summit."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Master Arngeir."

"Sky above, voice within."

As the monks left, Harry walked the steps towards the archway, not even close to it and already feeling the strength of the wind. It was time to clear it away.

" **Lok Vah Koor!"**

He breathed into the storm, the blast dispersing the mist, snow and wind, and the once obscure path was revealed to the young Dragonborn.

* * *

Harry carefully climbed the mountain, finding few living things there. There were a few goats, some ice wraiths and one troll, but the last two were easily dispatched. He wasn't sure of how long it took, but the visage from the high sections of the mountain was amazing. Trully speaking, he could only see a sea of clouds, but it was still amazing.

Eventually, Harry reached what seemed to be the summit, the proper pinnacle being a bit higher, but somewhat unreachable. There was a strange wall nearby, similar to the one he had found back in the depths of Bleak Falls Barrow. Yet despite this, there was no sign of Paarthurnaax.

Of course, the sound of a roar, followed by the sudden appearance of a dragon from behind the pinnacle was enough to place him once more on alert. Right now, he had to see if his hypothesis was correct. He had his hand ready to draw his sword, and took a few steps back as the dragon landed right in front of him.

"Drem Yo Lok. Greeting, wunduniik," it said. "I am Paarthurnax. Who are you? What brings you to my strunmah… my mountain?"

And it seemed he had been correct.

"I am Cyrodiil, Dragonborn," declared Harry. "I seek answers, and your followers, the Greybeards, told me you could answer them. I do admit I was not expecting a dragon… initially, that is."

"I am as our father Aka made me. Just as you, Dovahkiin," said Parthurnax. "And what laan… questions, do you seek?"

"I need to learn a Shout. Dragonrend. Can you teach me?"

"Drem. Patience. There are formalities which must be observed at the first meeting of two of the dov," affirmed the dragon, who then turned to the strange monument. "By long tradition, the elder speaks first. Hear my Thu'um, feel it in your bones! Match it, if you are Dovahkiin!"

It was at that moment, that Paarthurnax opened his maw, breathing fire into the wall.

" **Yor Tor Shul!"**

The torrent of fire set the wall ablaze, and as the fires subsided, Harry approached the wall, finding that upon it was engraved a word.

"Yol…" he whispered, upon seeing the engraving. "Fire."

Paarthurnax nodded. "A gift, Dovahkiin. Yol. Understand Fire, as the dov do."

From Paarthurnax came a strange fire-like stream, just like when he absorbed the soul of a dragon. And true to the old dragon's word, Harry did begin to understand the meaning of Yol… the meaning of Fire.

Yol Tor Shul. The last two words and their meaning had already been known to him, but unbound and without proper context, they were nigh-useless. But now… now he knew them all.

"Now, show me what you can do," demanded Paarthurnax. "Greet me not as mortal, but as dovah! Do not be afraid. Faasnu. Let me feel the power of your Thu'um."

Harry nodded to the dragon, and took a few steps back before preparing himself.

 **"Yol Tor Shul!"**

As the three words of power were spoken, from his mouth came a torrent of fire, much like the one Paarthurnax had sent towards the monument. Except this one was sent at the dragon himself, who felt first-hand the strength behind the Thu'um directed at him.

"Ah… yes! Sossedov los mul. The dragonblood runs strong in you. It is long since I had the pleasure of speech with one of my own kind," spoke Paarthurnax. "So, you have made your way here, to me. No easy task for a joor… a mortal. Even for one of Dovoah Sos. Dragonblood. What would you ask of me?"

"The Shout… Dragonrend. Do you know of it?" asked Harry.

"Ah. I have expected you. Prodah," said the dragon. "You would not come all this way for tinvaak with an old dovah. No. You seek your weapon against Alduin."

"How did you know I would come here?"

"Alduin komeyt tiid. What else would you seek? Alduin and Dovahkiin return together. But I do not know the Thu'um you seek. Krosis. It cannot be known to me."

That wording was a bit strange.

"You can't… know it? Why?"

"Your kind - joorre - mortals - created it as a weapon against the dov… the dragons. Our hadrimme, our minds cannot even… comprehend its concepts."

A shout exclusive to mortals. To Harry, that was quite a unique concept, but a welcome one.

"So, if you don't know it, how am I supposed to learn it? As far as I know, its creators are dead," he asked.

"Drem. All in good time. First, I have a question for you. Why do you want to learn this Thu'um?"

That one was a bit obvious. "Why else? To stop Alduin."

Paarthurnax nodded. "Yes. Alduin… Zeymah. The elder brother. Gifted, grasping, and troublesome, as is so often the case with first-born. But why? Why must you stop Alduin?"

"I've grown fond of this world… I have no intention to see it end, or for it to be ruled by some sort of… power-hungry god-king," he answered.

"Pruzah. As good a reason as any. There are many who feel as you do, although not all. Some would say that all things must end, so that the next can come to pass," suggested Paarthurnax. "Perhaps this world is simply the Egg of the next kalpa? Lein vokiin? Would you stop the next world from being born?"

Harry shrugged. "Let the next world take care of itself. This one has a few more things to give."

"Paaz. A fair answer. Ro fus… maybe you only balance the forces that work to quicken the end of this world," pondered the dragon. "Even we who ride the currents of Time cannot see past Time's end… Wuldsetiid los tahrodiis. Those who try to hasten the end, may delay it. Those who work to delay the end, may bring it closer."

Harry smiled. "Time will tell."

"But you have indulged my weakness for speech long enough. Krosis. Now I will answer your question. Do you know why I live here, at the peak of the Monahven – what you name Throat of the World?"

Harry shook his head.

"This is the most sacred mountain in Skyrim. Zok revak strunmah. The great mountain of the world. Here the ancient Tongues, the first mortal masters of the voice, Brought Alduin to battle and defeated him," answered Paarthurnax.

"Where they used the Shout, right?"

"Yes. But it was not Dragonrend which help them to defeat Alduin, if such a word can be used," affirmed the elder dragon. "The Nords of those days used the Dragonrend Shout to cripple Alduin. But this was not enough. Ok mulaag unslaad. It was the Kel – the Elder Scroll. They used it to... cast him adrift on the currents of Time."

Oh dear… if Elder Scrolls were to be involved in Alduin's defeat… it wasn't good, considering the current situation.

"And then he emerged here, not long ago."

The dragon nodded. "Tiid krent. Time was… shattered here because of what the ancient Nords did to Alduin. If you brought that Kel, that Elder Scroll back here… to the Tiid-Ahraan, the Time-Wound… With the Elder Scroll that was used to break Time, you may be able to… cast yourself back. To the other end of the break. You could learn Dragonrend from those who created it."

To find an Elder Scroll was rather easy. He simply had to go to the Imperial Library in the White-Gold Tower. The problem was, that the Moth Priests and the Elder Council had completely forbidden access to that section of the library to anyone who was not part of the Order of the Ancestor Moths. Even when he had briefly resided in the tower, he had not been able to enter that part of the library. There had to be another way.

Perhaps the Greybeards and the Blades could instruct him further on this matter.


	39. Chapter 39

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling while the Elder Scrolls series belong to Bethesda.

* * *

"Normal Speech"

" _Thoughts"_

" **Other Language"**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 39 – The World-Eater**_

Harry came to find that both the Greybeards and the Blades had differing opinions regarding the Elder Scrolls, but both had a clear idea on who could have a hint about the location of an unclaimed one. As such, he had made his way to the hold of Winterhold, his first visit to the northern wasteland where the College of Winterhold stood, amidst the ruins of what remained of Winterhold after the infamous Great Collapse.

The capitulation of Winterhold also made his work far easier, considering it would be somewhat dangerous to venture into a hold controlled by an ally of Ulfric Stormcloak. Nevertheless, his small venture had proven to be somewhat successful, and he had been directed by the College's librarian to a hermit living inside a hellishly cold cave in the coastal area of the Sea of Ghosts.

Septimus Signus had proven to be a rather insane individual, considering his speech patterns and odd ideas, especially that the Heart of Lorkhan was somehow imprisoned inside the Dwemer Lockbox, when it had been released by the Nerevarine two centuries ago. He really doubted that such an artefact would randomly end up inside a Dwemer construct, inside a frozen cave in the middle of the sea. Of course, there was also the fact that Septimus had been told that by Hermaeus Mora. Out of all the Princes of Oblivion, and to his mortal mind, the Prince of Fate was certainly the strangest.

Still, the madman believed that the knowledge of an Elder Scroll was required to open the box, and he sent Harry searching for it, the young battlemage venturing into the depths of Alftand, where he found the remnants of an expedition, all its members being either dead, or too insane to attempt contact. When he finally managed to reach the descent into Blackreach, Harry had been amazed by the colossal cavern and the many odd flora within. This had also been his first encounter with active Dwemer Animunculi, and the infamous Falmer, which infested both the ruins and Blackreach. His academic side had been truly excited at both encounters, but his self-preservation instincts… not so much.

But his true destination had been the Tower of Mzark, where the Elder Scroll had been stored by the Dwemer, and its strangely easy to use mechanism. Odd, for something related to the Dwemer, but he supposed they too would not enjoy having to constantly repeat time-wasting tasks whenever they needed to use certain devices such as this one.

But now, the Elder Scroll was his, and with the means to learn the Dragonrend Shout, he now only had to do a little recall into Septimus's outpost, and give him the lexicon.

* * *

"Here it is," said Harry as he approached the man. "The lexicon is inscribed."

Septimus quickly tuned towards Harry.

"Ooh, give it here, quickly!" he said, grabbing the cubical device. "Extraordinary… yes… oh… the Dwemer had more than even Septimus expected. This will take time to decriptify."

"Erm…"

"Be on your way, and Septimus will find you if he has further need," said Septimus, dismissing Harry before completely focusing on the lexicon Harry had brought him.

At this, Harry knew clearly it was a waste of time to make further inquiries, not to mention there was still a big black dragon out there that needed to be destroyed. A with a flick of his hand, Harry vanished from the north of Skyrim.

* * *

 **Throat of the World, Whiterun Hold, Skyrim**

The quiet pinnacle of the mountain was disturbed as Harry appeared suddenly there, Paarthurnax being on top of the old monument. The dragon took notice of Harry's arrival, and immediately addressed the young battlemage.

"Drem Yol Lok. Greetings, dovahkiin," spoke the dragon.

"Drem Yol Lok, Paarthurnax," replied Harry, who reached into his bag and took out the Elder Scroll. "I have the Elder Scroll."

"The Kel… the Elder Scroll. You have it. Tiid kreh… qalos. Time shudders at its touch," he declared. "There is no question. You are doom-driven. Kogaan Akatosh. The very bones of the earth are at your disposal. Go then, take the Scroll to the Time-Wound. Do not delay, for Albuin will be coming. He cannot miss the signs."

Harry nodded, and moved to the Wound. As he stepped onto he, he clearly saw as the area outside seemed to be distorted… as if he was surrounded by a heat haze. The scroll was already on his hand, and as he raised it to the level of his head, Harry opened the artefact, revealing the page with many odd symbols, all shimmering and emanating a blue colour. Then, they began to move, and all space around Harry shifted into a blurry darkness, the only thing remaining being the faint echoes of the inscriptions within the Elder Scroll.

When the blurriness began to fade away, he could see that he was still in the Throat of the World, but… something was different. The sky was red, and many dragons flew near the mountain. The many burnt corpses at the pinnacle suggested that something was happening, but he could not tell what. That is, until he saw the arrival of two individuals, followed by a dragon.

" _This is the Dragon War…"_ realized Harry, looking into the events of the Merethic Era.

He had read texts regarding this legendary conflict in both the Imperial Library and the Arcane University, but to read about them was one thing. To experience them, even if in vision, was another. To see as three Nord warriors fought their way into the pinnacle of the Throat of the World, leaving the bodies of dragons on their way, before finally meeting Alduin himself. It was then, as Alduin flew above them, that the three words of power that he required were spoken, bringing down the dragon.

Mortal. Finite. Temporary.

Despite this newfound weakness, the dark beast had succeeded in killing one of of them. Yet as he was distracted by one of the two survivors, the other used an Elder Scroll against the World-Eater, the black dragon being consumed by a green wave of energy, disappearing. This is what Paarthurnax meant before, of Alduin being cast forward in time. For a brief moment, Harry wondered if for the Alduin he had seen in this vision, and for the one which had attacked Helgen, only a few minutes had passed between said events. Or maybe the dragon had been trapped in the currents of time for a much longer period, perhaps for the entirety of the last four ages.

It mattered little as the vision faded away, returning Harry to the present time, and to the ever snowy mountain top. Yet it seemed neither he nor Paarthurnax were the only present there, as a shadowy figure approached from the sky.

"Dovahkiin, Alduin approaches!" spoke Paarthurnax.

The World-Eater stopped above them, his piercing gaze directed at Harry.

"Bahloki nahkip sillesejoor. My belly is full of the souls of your fellow mortals, Dovahkiin," he claimed. "Die now and await your fate in Sovngarde!"

Paarthurnax rose at that moment from the word wall.

"Lost funt! You are too late Alduin!"

Alduin glanced at his former ally. "Suleyki mulaag, Paarthurnax. My power has waxed, while yours has waned."

As he finished those words, Alduin unleashed a shout of fire upon Paarthurnax, compelling the other dragon to evade the attack.

"Dovahkiin, use Dragonrend, if you know it!" he called out.

For a brief moment, Harry saw that the words of Paarthurnax had caused alarm on Alduin, the dragon possibly realizing what Dragonrend was supposed to be. Harry on the other hand, took the opportunity to unleash the ancient shout.

"Joor Zah Frul!"

A gust of blue energy came from his mouth, striking at the unprepared Alduin. There was a flash of light, and the next thing Harry saw was the body of Alduin flailing in the sky, engulfed in what seemed to be blue flames. He could be wrong, but it looked like Alduin had suddenly forgotten how to fly, a scene which he had seen minutes before.

"Unslaad hakoron!" roared Alduin as he fell to the ground. "Never again!"

Harry took the opportunity to quickly cast a variety of spells at Alduin, seeking to weaken him as much as possible. Sapping away his strength and taking it into himself was perhaps one of his primary goals.

Yet while Alduin was down, he was not without his weapon.

"Yol Tor Shul!"

Before the fire could reach Harry, he had raised a wall of ice in front of him, protecting him from the blast of fire. Mere instants after, cracks had begun to appear on the ice, and Harry quickly ran away from the ice barrier, turning himself invisible while running to the back of Alduin, seeking to use the confusion in order to make the dragon ignore his footsteps.

He was close enough to the dragon, and as the invisibility was dispelled, Harry summoned a Warhammer. He struck Alduin's side, the dragon roaring in pain.

"You will pay for your defiance, mortal!" roared Alduin as he tried to strike at Harry.

He dodged the attack, and as the Warhammer disappeared, he stabbed Alduin with Dawnbreaker, earning himself another roar, followed by another attack. However, he had already disappeared, reappearing instants later in front of Alduin.

Together with Paarthurnax who was flying above them, Harry used one his shouts against Alduin, striking the dragon directly. He continued his attack against the World-Eater, unleashing the Sphere of Negation upon the dragon. While it had not the intended effect of instant disintegration, it certainly caused quite some damage to Alduin. Not to mention he himself was a bit exhausted on the magicka side of things. The Sphere of Negation was, after all, one of the most powerful destruction spells he knew, and one which could drain a wizard of all his magicka with a single use.

"Meyz mul, Dovahkiin. You have become strong," said the World-Eater. "But I am Al-du-in, firstborn of Aka-Tusk!"

The effects of Dragonrend ceased to have hold over Alduin, as he was once more able to take flight.

"Mulaagi zok lot! I cannot be slain here, by you or anyone else! You cannot prevail against me. I will outlast you... mortal!"

Well, he seemed to have left an impression on the elder dragon, considering Alduin had just decided to abandon the battle. Not what he was expecting. A bit anti-climactic, to be honest.

"That was disappointing," he mumbled as Paarthurnax returned to the word wall.

"Lot krongrah. You truly have the Voice of a dovah. Alduin's allies will think twice after this victory," affirmed Paarthurnax.

"Victory? He escaped!"

The dragon seemed to nod. "Ni liivrah hin moro. True, this is not the final krongrah – victory. But not even the heroes of old were able to defeat Alduin in open battle. He was always pahlok… arrogant in his power. Uznahgar paar. He took domination as his birthright. This should shake the loyalty of the dov who serve him."

"So where did he go?"

"Krosis. That I do not know. Perhaps one of his allies knows. Mothmaus… But it will not be easy to convince one of them to betray him. Perhaps the hofkahsejun… the palace in Whiterun… Dragonsreach. It was originally built to house a captive dovah. A fine place to trap one of Alduin's allies, hmm?"

"I don't think the Jarl will like that very much," replied Harry. "Keeping dragons away from Whiterun has been one of his goals lately."

Paarthurnax was in agreement. "Hmm, yes. But your su'um is strong. I do not doubt that you can convince him of the need."

Harry could only hope his influence and past deeds for Whiterun would be enough to convince Balgruuf to let him invite a hostile dragon into the heart of the city.


End file.
